By Karen Baumgart
I say perhaps if we’d met
in an alternate universe
and suddenly we are
swaying
on the precipice of something
achingly beautiful
and spectacularly impossible.
warmth blooms from nowhere
in layers so subtle
we almost missed each one
unfurling, soft as petals.
perhaps this is how we fell:
luminous moments
strung together like pearls,
encircling us as we drew close
and tended wounds with
the salve of gentle words.
I say if I wasn’t married
and the hot wetness of
hearts splintering
bleeds across the fringes of
space and time.
I say I love you
but somehow the wind
has whipped away the sound
of almost-words as
insubstantial as hope.
Karen Baumgart lives in Australia and enjoys reading, running, and baking sweet treats. She adores sparkly things, chai tea, cats, and beautiful quotes. Even after many years, she still loves her work in human services policy, especially when it creates opportunities for marginalised people to have a voice. Karen used to be an English teacher, and is quite certain that writing is, indeed, the very best therapy. Her poetry has been published in Curio Cabinet Magazine.
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