A Kiss

A poem

Was it right?

Had I sacrificed my emotional timeline in favor of the movie scene first kiss?

A stone bench in Yerba Buena park, overlooking the city and the sunset.

It was picture perfect.

Yet, emotionally blurred.

The night sky, speckled with stars — my cheek, speckled with your kisses.

There are small candle flames, but no fireworks today.

The air feels a little too tense. Was it me?

Intimacy, admittedly slightly damp, with a hint of resolve to make it a memorable night.

I wander home eventually.

“Are you judging me” 

I ask my best friend.

“Not really … just

When did you grow up”

I didn’t know. Did I?

Unless I didn’t grow up. Unless this wasn’t really me.

Did I choose the pretty memory over the rightful timing?

The pattern continues.