what if i hung my feelings like photos on the wall just to remember
what if i was a detective and searched my body for fingerprints and traces of your touch
what if i stopped right here, planted my feet, lifted my arms to the sky and grew leaves
what if i was a poem chasing its tail across the page
what if i disappeared into the crowd and swung from palm to palm like Tarzan through the jungle until i found a grasp that wouldn't let go
what if my legs moved on without me and i just stood right here, head over shoulder, waiting for the past to catch up