On Apologies

There is no measure of time
infinitesimally small enough
to calculate how long
(should we find ourselves
in the same room)
it would take
for me to be in your arms,
making you mine,
covering you with kisses,
falling on you,
with whispers of
I’m sorry and
never again—
if the world were smaller,
and oceans brought us closer,
not farther away.

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