there is a chance

I lose this altogether:

lose the sense

of your smell on me

the way I see

green eyes change to blue

depending on your mood

the hope I feel

soft in my hands

when you’re there

next to me.

A chance

I fall

and the grip

slips

down a drain

I’ve never noticed before.

What happens when

my lips

can no longer sense

the suspense

of you,

my lover,

wanting me?