We know where this leads. Your hand resting
on my skirt at an Asian fast food place.
The dry frost of winter gusts under
the door. Two dates in and we have not kissed yet,
you have never bought me food. A past
we cannot revisit without a glow,
the peach fuzz hum of confidence that living
in the future brings. I know now
that you will kiss me first in an office
chair. That we share a bank account.
That you will visit eight grocery stores
before asking me to be your wife.
At so many points in that first year, scales
could have tipped, our many moves
uncharted yet, could have been made
to separate cities, the same story
of Banh Mi on Valentine’s Day, could
be told to friends, as a joke.
Copyright © Caitlin Thomson, 2015.
Caitlin Thomson just moved for the 15th time. Her work has appeared in numerous places, including: The Literary Review of Canada, The Moth, Going Down Swinging, and the anthology Killer Verse. Her second chapbook Incident Reports was recently released by Hyacinth Girl Press. You can learn more about her writing at www.caitlinthomson.com.