As if. – July 2024

She’s a mystery.
As if I wanted to cling on to her drapes
to reveal a clouded sky.
As if I wanted to know.
As if she wanted the same.
As if I didn’t mull
for some time before she woke
over whether my fingers
could lace into hers. Now it’s
as if the thought never entered
my mind, but
it hasn’t left either,
as if it’s been
gliding around inside
for an eternity already.

As if I couldn’t see when you were
lying. I lied back as if
you couldn’t do the same. As if
I didn’t see how you two said
goodbye. Him all red and smiling as if
he were drunk. As if
I didn’t look down to
see his red, drunk, smiling hand
brush your waist as he turned
to walk away, as if
I weren’t there, as if
I didn’t care. As if
I cared.

As if sex were a commitment.
As if it didn’t exist only in the instant.
As if thoughts of your sex had been
gliding around inside
for an eternity already.