Terra Incognita

I tell her I'm planning to visit the places
To which no one else ever wanted to go:
Tehran or Kabul, N'Djamena or Conakry.
Her eyebrows rise. She says, “Can I go
With you?” We slip to the sides of our
Family gatherings, snarky as teenagers,
Tearing down everyone else, sotto voce.
We, somehow, can't pass in a hallway
Without making contact. Do these things
Indicate that we're in love? I don't know. Does
It matter? She's four states away in a house
With her husband. I'm here with my wife.
We won't ever be lovers, even in Conakry.
What we've become will remain unexplored,
Somewhere we know it's best not to go.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 45 times
Written on 2021-08-19 at 10:19

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