176. On romance, as an adult.

Each time you meet him, it is accidental.
He smiles at everyone and this does not
impress you, so you don't let him touch you
until you do.

You still treat life as a schoolroom,
expecting lessons to be learned
as quickly as the snap of a rubber band
against naive summer flesh.

When a person tells you who they are,
you should believe them.

Now: Do you forgive
the letters in the wrong order?
Forgive him when he sleeps with someone
ten years your junior? And does he
forgive you, when you use him
to write about him?

Say that it is fair because with him
there is no point of safety. No soft hum
ringing in your ears the next day.

He tells you not to trust him
so you do not trust him. But you stay
out until dawn like glassy-eyed kids,
and you fall asleep smelling like him,
unsure if you enjoy it or not.

The water and the stars are calculated,
but you do not want to forget them.