post-cold sore kiss






like a sprout straining its curled spine against the husk

like a baby pressing its face against the restaurant's window pane,

trying to reach the french fries on the table outside

like the moon and the earth, caught in their celestial two-step

- inching closer only to move farther away,


their gravity electrifying the tantalizing void in between

like the chick cracking the eggshell now with only the membrane beneath it to push through

like that same sprout

at the edge of the soil-line,

just a centimeter below breaking through to the sun

not kissing you

has been an exercise in restraint

a master-class in unbreachable nearness

- in advanced tantalization technique

in how to hold two same-pole magnet-ends together for two-weeks straight without easing the tension

between them

in how to freeze time at the breakthrough

pause the chord progression one note before it resolves

on how Hashem holds the earth and the moon at distance

and just how much strength that requires,

and resolve

and even now,

even right now

with my mouth just a half-wisp of nothing above yours

i know

how much the earth and the moon must ache to bridge that gap

how much longer

can i wait

to do the same

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