I am glad

I never made you dinner

or read aloud my favourite passage from Jayne Anne Phillips or

told you the whole story of scars.

I never left a toothbrush or contact case
in your bathroom
because wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

I said a polite thank you, tried not to blush
whenever you complimented me or
said something terribly sweet
and I’ll try not to blush now.

That I didn’t straddle you on the kitchen chair
wrapping my legs around rungs for leverage
pushing you deeper inside
because that would have been next on the list.

That I asked questions when I did
because that would have felt a lot like love
in a very short time.

That I’ll never have to refer to this as a break up
only a near romance or

a close call

a space so new that we didn’t know
if walls were going up or
coming down

that I can easily escape.