I have forgotten a thousand things
most of them moments of silent wondering
in which one pair of eyes can't break
from another pair of eyes
and tremulous whispers give way
to the first brush of breath
across breath across lips moving
toward the heat of other lips
already kissing out the shapes
of words that will never be spoken
sung or whispered into that disappearing space
between lips here and eyes there
and those impossible explosions inside
on the precipice of the moment
waiting
to see if whatever comes next
will become one
of a thousand things forgotten