I might say once you sprinkled constellations
in my eyes and scales went crazy
because my smallness could not hold
all of what was blooming
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

I could mention your name was my mantra
for desire, whispered and rolled
under my tongue like a secret
a sweet one
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

I could tell how the magic
of our meeting belled and rang
in a promise unrealized
and faded to silence
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

this can’t be a poem
about a feeling that almost was
but never became
and so it’s not