not a love story

we were

supposed to

intertwine, fall

into each

other like

the north and

south magnetic poles.

you were

supposed to

wrap your

arms around me,

slowly draw me

close, like two

curlicues of

charred wood,

coiling and

interlacing and

melting into

one.

i was

supposed to

lean into your

tender touch,

close my

eyes and

tilt just to

the right,

inhale your

gentle scent,

crisp white linen.

it was

supposed to

be flawless,

breathless, life-

changing, spark

an instant and

eternal connection,

why didn’t you

rest your

lips on mine,

steal the

breath from the

tip of my

tongue, expel

the old

life from me?

we were

supposed to

taste each

other, devour the

moment like a

delicacy. but

instead, our

first kiss

was nothing but

a touch of two

misshapen nodules of

swollen pink flesh

and the hot

stickiness of

sour coffee breath.