A Puff of Steam

A Puff of Steam

I've never eaten one of these, until tonight.
If it were only that walk through Lannis Park
where we heaped leaves in a pile, and fell,
kicking like kids. If it were only that look.
The bug-eyed one when your steak arrived.
I told you, at The Mill, rare means raw!

If it were only the way you let me lick the salt
from your fingers at the movie. How you cried.
And then, remember that nametag? When I
touched it and said, "Isaac, she said Tic-Tacs!"
You spit several, later, in perfect trajectory,
to my mouth. If it were only this. Only this.

We had walked until the Earth threatened to
return us to our origins. All the while laughing.
Loving. I removed my right glove, you, your left.
You exhaled the moon. I sucked every molecule
into my lungs, and I would have willingly fallen
backwards, nothing but air to not catch me.

-- c. Ciprianowords Inc. 2009 --