strangers on this road we are on

an excerpt from a letter i'm writing,


If, in the off chance we do meet, you will have found me on a park bench, sitting up straight and erect, with my hands folded in my lap. I can only hope that you will stand before me, bend down slightly and kiss my face, clumsily. You should press your forehead against mine, look into my eyes briefly then, knowingly, close yours. No words will be exchanged and I will flinch briefly to your palms cupping my shoulders before your hands become warm on my skin. Perhaps I will shed the slightest tear and maybe leaves will fall around our feet. I don’t know who else will be there, surrounding us in the park, but they will be inaudible. I assure you we will only hear a slight wind.