As if Our Forever Were

Regret or accept, the past begets
a new horizon every instant even
when I forget what I was about 
to say, friends, champagne bursts 
out of our time, a laughter shared,
light to the mind, tender tonight
as bubbles lift our body’s history
until the gap widens enough to fit  
expectations on bashed cobwebs. 

I wander around the shore, but 
as I fall deeper into the forest
the power to force your way into
the next instant diminishes, bound
to the rules of complexity, slay
the book that contains the riddle 
of who I am surrounded by endless
labyrinths shining a path toward 
the emptiness I am while in awe. 

We are not completely in control
of what constitutes us, nor who 
we are, a harvest of intermingling
thoughts, spires colliding, settle 
as the horizon brings me the caring
needed to free me from a what if:
What if the done hadn't been?
What if the wasn't was done?  

And as the year leaves us, what 
I did leaves me its branches too, 
can't undo a mistake with a grin 
but I can learn to forget the tears
of a what if while drunk by a sunset.  

Even when unsettled by a what if, 
patience awakens calmness, bursts 
blisters of misplaced possibilities
and widens a gap with each today
as it comes to pass, able or unable 
to change it, sorrow, for tomorrow 
to come, for us to grow and expand, 
as if our forever were to be this
universe kindled by fond memories.