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First I laughed in delight,

Like an infant playing peekaboo,

I didn’t expect to see you there.

I didn’t expect anything when I first saw you.

 

It was a pleasure to know your face

To feel you stroking my hair, a comfort

I didn’t know you, but you felt so kind.

Then it started to hurt, knowing I had to leave,

Knowing I wouldn’t always be there for this.

 

I remember tickling you,

And the tears behind my smile.

Not knowing what I would be missing in the future,

But so sad to be missing it.

I was happy, joyous.

 

Then it started to hurt, the mixture

Balm and bliss and loss,

Feeling premature,

The joy still mysterious

But the intimacy somehow pre-established.

It felt like it had been this way for months, not days.

 

I still didn’t know you,

Still don’t know what hides behind your smile,

Though sometimes I feel your deep sadness,

Not knowing its source.

 

Finally I had to leave

I was confused, anguished, sorrowful

Mad at you for being just stoic, gentle, accepting, stiff.

 

I think we started to sprinkle salt in each others wounds,

Where the empty part was yet unformed, indefinite.

I was wrong, but maybe so were you.

Never done this before,

But we knew it was coming.

You left a hole,

Big as the sky and small as a grain of sand.

 

And then I missed you.

Bad, sometimes tears for no reason, out of nowhere.

Like you.

Tears not knowing when I’d see your face again.

 

Wondering what it could be to see you again

Anguished, bitter over what could have been.

Salty tears.

 

Now it tickles me like you used to.

It feels light, like a feather,

But gritty, like your beard.

I’m hungry with whetted appetite,

Remembering your kiss.

 

It tickles,

It plays softly on my skin.

I miss you, I still want you,

I smile, thinking of you.

 

 

 

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