On the speed of light and love

Your smile is not your smile,
nanoseconds ago. And I wonder
if the love you spoke nanoseconds ago,
remains. I cannot know you
but the past of you, all the one hundred
eighty six thousand two hundred
eighty two miles of you, across the room —
smiling. I come to you, an approximation,
a prediction, a potentiality that if I reach
for your jaw, lean in for a kiss, the possibility
remains that you have left the room, the house,
the life that hinges on such uncertainty.

Image: Karen Alsop on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.