I could never hold her hand in public,
or kiss her goodbye outside,
or ever do anything where I might be
seen.
And I could never admit anything
or say who I was, and
I still feel bad about it, but
the past is the past and it is something
I cannot change.
Our hands would bump and I would
jerk away, bite my lip. Hands in pockets.
Exhale.
I'm safe from the looks we'd get.
And I know it was horrible to think, and
I still feel bad about it, but
the past is the past and it is something
I cannot change.
And I want to apologize but
how to go about it,
I don't know.

Today,
sun not quite beating down on us,
kind of a gentle press.
On the wide white sidewalk,
I'm standing by you, walking by you,
and you are walking by me,
making chit-chat, making smalltalk.
And all of a sudden, I am aware
of your proximity to me, and
our hands bump and quickly, quickly
you lace your fingers through mine.
And I stop mid-sentence, blink.
Continue talking. Smile a bit more.
Exhale.
And know that we're in plain sight,
and that bicyclist over there
did a double take for a reason,
and the people in those cars passing
could be anyone I know, but I
don't
care.

And we walk together, hand in hand,
and I know that the past is the past and
it's something I can't change, but
the present is the present and the future
will be the future.
I can change anything,
I can change everything.
Today is upon us, and
I am
new.