Under the bridge (a companion poem)

 

I’ll be the one kissing you.

I’ll be the one holding you against the wall,

my hands on your shoulders or

caging your fingers

I’ll be the one coming for your lips

I’ll hold back the earthquake

in my whole mind and body, hold back

the shivers to come

and the burning thoughts

and the burning skin

I’ll catch these holy seconds

when I’m not collapsing yet and

 

kiss you

 

and after that

I can’t say.

I may hold you tight

I may kiss you again

I may smile, from desire

I may love you

but most of all I may

whisper this earthquake in your ears

so you know for once

how it is to be me.

 

Or maybe I’ll be the one kissing you,

but gently;

I’ll take your hand under the bridge

in these city shadows

I’ll mingle my fingers with yours and

squeeze

hard

to keep the earthquake inside

or maybe to unleash it in your hands.

I’m not sure how it works.

 

But maybe I won’t do anything.

Maybe the earthquake will be too strong

or the beast will be too scared

and I’ll stay here holding your hand like I don’t know what to do with it

when in fact I couldn’t know better.

But it’s just too hard.

 

Les Nuits