If Ever

If Ever

If ever you think, challenge me
to think once again and again,
the next time you lay your left hand
palm up there on your desk,
muscles relaxed, ideas unclenched.

You know now how to do this.

And if you are so distracted,
think of the first autumnal leaves,
and the snows in december,
and the fresh spring blossoms,
and the haystacks of high summer.

Buried right up to your elbow.

Then recall all of those kisses
your arm will always be blessed with:
the gentle impressions formed
by sometimes tactile lips
never elbowed out of the way.

Even when you flex new ideas.

And, as each month slides ever on,
you were still destined for me once,
when my mouth budded on your flesh,
climbing up your arm
to seek invincible softness.

You can never leave this behind.

Yes, you know how to do this:
I want you to follow my gaze
down there over your right shoulder,
and recall how I hold
you from fingertips to elbow.

If you might be accepted by me.