what it’s not

It either is, or its not,

there is no letting it grow

on you while you sit and

mull over the possibilities.

/

Yes it gets better with age

but everything needs a real

beginning or it remains

entangled in the if’s and maybe’s.

/

Its either crystal or smoked glass

Its either waiting for your hands 

to brush against each other 

while you walk together.

/

Or its nothing.

Its not waiting for weeks

in apprehension, in excitement

with your breath held.

/

Its smiling at the thought of 

them looking at you, even if

they’re a world apart,

or sitting beside you.

/

Knitting dreams without

this assuring feeling

at the pit of your conscience

is a folly in your court.

/

Breathe, ruminate, see if

the lights are on and the windows 

open when you walk into that

person’s world, a fantasy.

/

If there is even a moment of doubt,

step back, walk out as gently 

as you came in, because this is

not your house to stay.

/

There’s time. I am not mine.

You are not theirs. 

The breeze reminds you

there’s work tomorrow.