the thaw

I do want your smile
to pull my feet from under me
like it used to

and it does,
but not like it used to

Now second guesses
readily quicken
ebbing the flow
before I can give in to its pull

The waters under the bridge have been stilled
by a winter of conventional wisdom and warnings

It will take much more
than an early spring thaw
for me to wade in again
and meet you part way


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