If This Were Not Love
by Sid Gomez Hildawa

If this were not love,
I wouldn’t kiss you.
My head would turn
the instant your head
would rise to meet
mine, allowing
our cheeks to console
each other as I distract
you with a tight
embrace. My fingers
would comb your hair
the way mangrove
roots sift through mud
to anchor at the swampy
edge of the bay, extending
the land but not
sailing away. My legs
would entwine around
your legs, with my feet
locked on to yours, as though
we were one immortal
creature with many arms
and many legs, but with many
hearts as well. And my body
will rub against your
body, like millstone
to the mill, skin
on smooth skin, grinding
watered grains
into milk, but only
for spilling.

I wouldn’t kiss you
If this were not love.