What If…

“What If…”

What if a fist was a hug, would it hurt at all when we’re punched by love, would that one moment stand out in our hearts like a red kiss on the wing of a dove, above I tossed my hope, as I cast my vote for freedom of mind, body and soul, I wish I was bold enough to not let my integrity be bought and sold, let it be told to the highest bidder that tears fall when love itself pulls the trigger, bang bang point blank at close range, then familiar faces become estranged, yet, I’m willing to let our water flow on these sharp rocks–hoping for change, in time our rugged edges might become smooth as a reiki stone, just like your soft skin tone, I smile when I hear that song, smell the sheets that we made sweet love on, to pieces I was blown by your dynamite touch, what if a hug was a fist gripping on a rose stem, shouldn’t I protect myself by shedding a little blood if you squeeze too hard and try to pluck me up out of my element, what if… Selah.

A: Pipoetry By: Randy P.

“What If…” is A Pipoetry by: Randy Pipman (c) Copyright Pipoetry 2013, All Rights Reserved

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