by Richard Vince

My cheek was smoother when
She kissed it; it had yet
To be roughened by the
Maturity that, for me,
Lay just around the corner.

That was beginning and end.
There was no more to it,
Yet I still remember,
Even though I have forgotten
The colour of her eyes.

I doubt I still form part
Of her memory, but still
I can’t help wondering
If she thinks about
That briefest of moments
And smiles as I do.

It was over half our
Lives ago, and could have been
Our last encounter before
Our lives diverged again and
We sought new friends to fit
New situations.

Regardless, it is the one
That will stay with me
Until I am able to
Commit her eyes to memory.


Posted on 01/08/2007
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

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