Scrolling Instagram, a post read,
‘Take me back to the first night we met’
Thinking to myself how there isn’t anyone I’d want to meet again,
You stepped through the door, walked across my mind’s stage.
Meeting me in a duvet fort, engraved with sweaty endless smiles.
Caught like a lily pad floating at the top of my throat,
Imagining what it would be like to re-experience our first scene,
Draped over the sofa,
Like the silhouette of two butterflies
Fluttering nude, laughing.
I kissed you.
I can hear the pages turning
as this half-opened book dangles through my chest,
Like a sinking weight into my heart from shoulder to shoulder.
I’ll never forget you.
© Victoria Venturella, MA, Wait a Meta, Existential Dialogues