is it okay?

is it okay that i love you?

or that i might?

or that

i will.

is it okay that we kissed?

in my dreamscape,

forlorn

and star-crossed.

you left her side and grasped my palm.

the ridges of your fingerbones being chased by my pointer.

i want to memorize your hands

and the rest of your golden temple.

we kissed.

your sun-chapped lips tasted like the ocean.

i fear the ocean

because i love her.

we escaped the rest,

spent a weekend in each others’ embrace.

i did not question our spontaneity or seclusion.

maybe i should have.

is it okay that i awoke to a wrenching heart?

the sun piercing my joy with his light.

i am alone in my bed, and you are in yours.

i spot you at mass; i go unrecognized.

is it okay that i migrated behind you?

to study your rear?

counting the freckles on your neck.

seventeen.

your sun-bleached maturely blond hair ends above your neck.

from there, hundreds of pure yellow sprouts.

i imagine the feeling.

the plushness under my palms.

is it okay that you will never know?

is it okay that your girlfriend will never know?

is it okay that

i am heartbroken.