A Year Ago...

If you would take another

I would give you a chance,

Kitchen dance

I wouldn’t have said no

I wouldn’t be on the edge of this plateau.

I would meet you on a ripe summer night

To find you stoic by the fountain’s edge,

The saccharine air plump with fermented lust.

I would explore the playground from east to west:

The Spotted Pig,

Lips tinged fig;

Woodsy mushrooms,

A wine induced haze.

I wouldn’t have torn my skin,

This fully exposed reservation,

Gotten in the cab without hesitation,

Stirring past noon,

To aromas from Beirut,

And of Strawberry Jam.

If you would give me another

I would take a chance,

Kitchen dance

I wouldn’t have said no

I wouldn’t be on the edge of this plateau.

I would taste the vindaloo curry

Till my tongue tingled,

And my lips quivered

Against yours.

I would trek across the Williamsburg Bridge

November’s crisp chill

Conquering my fingertips.

And if we made it back,

I would lie:

In your wrought iron bed,

Your creamy arms,

And T-shirt,

Listening intently

To the galloping outside your window

Heavy eyelids far from slumber

If you would give me another

I would take a chance,

Kitchen dance

I wouldn’t have said no

I wouldn’t be on the edge of this plateau.

I would rise during the moon’s late reign

Hop on a train

Bound out of state

Creamsicle trees swirl hurriedly by

My daydreaming eyes,

Nuzzled in your sleeping shoulder

Wrapped up in Salinger,

I would drive through Greenwich

To The Darkside of the Moon,

Roll like a joint in the autumn leaves,

Let you score a basket.

We would stroll along the shore

Clad in button-downs, plaid, and wool,

Stumble upon a lavish, lazy lunch.

Finally, extinguishing the day

Doused in hay.

I would have taken a chance,

Kitchen danced

I wouldn’t have said no; but,

I would still be here,

On the edge of this plateau.