If We

If we were a beach then you would be the sand, diamond warmth, and I the shingle underfoot. If we were a pen then I would be invisible ink, and you a permanent marker, fluorescent. If we were wine you would be the vineyard, the grape, the wine list itself; I a bottle unopened, left corked. If we were a theatre I am the playbill of a show cancelled and unseen; you, the stage in spotlight: golden, applauded. I the tile and you the whole mosaic for us as a Roman floor; I a shattered pane and you the handle with us in the shape of a door. As clothing – you a shiny button, me a thread to be snipped. As hair – you a photographed trend, I a ponytail clipped. If we were a couple, Then you would be blind. If our love was a tape, I’d forever record, pause and rewind. If we were a cake you would be the fingertip licked icing and I a batter filled lump. If we were a body then you would be the heart and I the blood you pump.