I will admit to some regrets.
The night I cut myself on barbed-wire,
midnight skinny-dipped
at a campground somewhere
between Nice and St. Tropez
and made love to a dreadlocked
trombone player on the concrete deck
is not one of them.
Neither was the night i embraced a ghost
floating in a cocaine haze
in somebody’s downtown Chicago loft.
It wasn’t a dream things were said
feelings felt it was real.
I knew it would not last long or end well
but for several winter weeks
I wore her lipstick and perfume on my tongue.
I will admit to some regrets.
The night I married my beloved
is not one of them. Strange
and magical fairy tale with
an unwritten ending, we are
destined to share this joyful life
follow our twining paths
>>))((<<
never far apart
he is my heart.
I will admit to some regrets
including some that aren’t yet