no battle’s plan survives first contact with the enemy.
the set up is perfect, the line was drawn
delivered perfect (enticing, full of promise)
yet the implication seemed to slide
beyond your notice.

hindsight is 20/20, in retrospect I look back
seeing where you attempted to snare me within a web
and in my stubborness (or plain stupidity)
the words whooshed in a faint breeze
right over my head.

perhaps the lesson is that we are imperfect for each other.
but I think I will always feel
that it could have been…

ineffably sublime.