We sat
and when you grabbed my hand
I flinched
not away from you
but towards a recent past
more faded than is necessary
or expected
And with a nail across a wrist
I knew something was being said
but I can't interpret the language, yet
Your touch is comfort
and heart-racing aphrodisiac
with hints of familiarity
so wrapped up in differences
I can't tell what is new or old
Is this what I'm supposed to understand?
Don't let go of my hands, or lips
if you prefer
because I'm just baby-stepping
towards a realization
and if you stay still it helps
Why now?
I will turn over what I'm meant to
eventually
but will it be what I'm
backwards
hoping for?
