It Would Be No Different From The First Time, If Not For The First Time

She folds the same.

The floor is a litter of everything.

I am collapse into breath into hold.

She finds the place to rest

her wrist against the spine.

I slip arm around the neck

the way I always did.

I am three years younger

again. I find her hand.

I would kiss her if I could.

Love runs the tongue, catches

at the break, and we fall

before anything can be ruined

again.