Or Not

Perhaps when I see you again,

smiling your crinkled eyes into near oblivion, I will ask you this. 

Or not.

Does your pillow smell the way it did

When we laughed our way into it?

tasting fresh tangerines, sea water and drift wood smoke?

Skin on skin, lips adrift

in a sensuous sea of tangled senses

Perhaps when I see you again,

I will see myself again.

Or not.

See myself in you, your fingers

Entwined in mine, thoughts

Words and memories

Jumbling, tumbling.

Feet curled up against feet,

Like dried-flowers-in-forgotten-books

A hundred lifetimes curled into a single night

Perhaps when I see you again

I will live again.

Or not.