There Is No

There is no Florida.
No walking
on sun-stained beaches
in late afternoon
or late night laughter
shaking white walls.

There is no Oregon.
The shadowy dock
and humid air
sticking to our skin
never happened
and neither did
the kisses kissed
under the frozen stars.

There is only
this longing ache
that sits
its anxious weight
on my chest
and my fingers itching
to buy tickets
to the past
where Florida and Oregon
existed together,
their hands hot
with love.

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2 thoughts on “There Is No

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