One Hundred and Seventy Four

I wonder if I'll ever have to find you again, some day.

If I'll lose you. and have to find my way back to you.
I wonder if I'll lose you
and be okay with that.

I wonder if I can't do this.
I wonder if all my wonders are more than wonders, they are facts about me, not incapabilities, but mannerism, but character, but the way I am built. I wonder if I can't do this.

I wonder if I can
and think I can't.
I wonder if I will think I can't.
I wonder if you'll become a regret,
a very distant memory in this blog. (One of many.)

I wonder if one day
I will sit on the bed of someone
stroking their knee
kissing their cheek
caressing their hair
and tell them
in the most hushed voice and pained expression
about someone I knew
back when I lived in Montreal.