There will never be
a future occurrence
of your heart beating
next to mine.

No fingers entwined,
eyes locked on yours,
staring into your
rich veins of depth.

The future is void of
scarlet arterial paths
drenched in your fire,
flooded by your warmth.

No hair to be run through,
pulled and teased.
No bath to be drawn,
to cleanse skin as one.

Tomorrow brings no
sweet taste of lips,
no deliciously, wicked
garden to tend.

No hands restrained
in throws of free will,
to be released beyond
the present, never.

No backs kissing walls
instantly chilling warmth.
No nails scar the flesh,
or tear cloth to shreds.

No playful marks of trade
left black and blue
to gently fade into
natural tones once more.

Total impermanence.
For never once has a kiss
been wildly embraced
in the future.

In this constant
state of flux
the future can never
be experienced.

This is the moment,
the next is unscripted.
This blessed time,
is happily ever now.