You asked me once why only lovers kiss—
And turned to me with something in your eye;
I pulled away, but now I reminisce
And wonder if I’d like it if you’d tried.
For kissing is just handshakes, but with lips,
And closeness is just people in a room;
Embracing is a cursory eclipse,
And loving is a flower bed in bloom.
So who’s to say that friendship must insist
Upon a set of rules within a realm,
And who can claim that love does not consist
Of any feeling that can overwhelm?
Perhaps every encounter is a tryst,
And you, another lover that I missed.