I put two fingers
under her chin
and kissed her in
a Chicago garage,
just out of range of the
sodium lights, just once,
the only time
it ever happened, and
I still remember it, not because
it was unsatisfying,
lust unslaked
or love unrequited,
but because it was
the right thing at the right moment
and it doesn’t happen often
that slices of spark and dark
meet that tightly and well.
I hope she’s somewhere now
with that moment still suspended
between her
and someone else.
I hope it stayed with her. I can’t find it,
and it can’t be
lost forever.
Dark Matter 