I’d like to think that those rose buds we pressed into each other’s palms might have bloomed
if she hadn’t hurt you and he hadn’t hit me.
Every single one of us
looking for someone to pull thorns out of our finger tips.
Children in confessionals sobbing for someone to understand ,
take their hand
lead them out of loneliness .
if we had met before sunrises planted lemon seeds in our eyes,
say on a playground or in a cafeteria,
would we have talked about what our moms packed for lunch,
tried to make each other laugh so hard that milk poured out our noses?
Played tetherball at recess ?