I bump into my past all the time.
Taking clothes out of the washing machine,
rinsing out the bath,
entering the bedroom on the right.
It greets me in the morning, and bids good night in the evening.
Standing there, chest bared
as I once looked forward to.
But now all I can see is you.
Your shape, your silhouette,
your smile, your giggle.
Your kind face and sincere eyes,
your waterfall of hair.
Every so often, my past catches me by surprise
and I wonder if it’s going to keep me captive.
I know what might have been, and what was
only last year.
It’s not what I want now. Not where my heart has stayed.
My heart is only looking forward,
a future linked with yours.
Dungarees and messy hair,
lazy afternoons tinkering with puzzles,
mugs of tea and glasses of pink lemonade.
Gentle hugs, firmer holds.
Delicate kisses, and some more bold.
And all the laughter we can spare.