By Kirsty A. Niven

A drunken day of laughs and stupidity,
paused in a moment of dawning comprehension –
eyes meeting over knotted limbs,
you move on so easily
from a realisation so startling.

A pulse quickens in every vein, thudding violently,
and you smile so serenely.
A friendly squeeze, a peck on the cheek,
an “I love you” that swerves,
a near miss that drops and dissolves.

A confused chemistry that cannot be,
blurring concrete lines.
Electric currents that must be washed away,
leaving no trace of tangled thoughts.
A minute that must be forgotten.

About the Poet:  Kirsty A. Niven lives in Dundee, Scotland. Her writing has appeared in anthologies such as Landfall, A Prince Tribute and Of Burgers and Barrooms. She has also featured in several journals and magazines, including The Dawntreader, Cicada Magazine, Dundee Writes and Word Fountain. Kirsty’s work can also be found online on sites such as Cultured Vultures, Atrium Poetry and Nine Muses Poetry.