The Untraveled Path | Poems that Suck

I have a photo of a place I love, 
 took it before I even knew you existed;
  a pathway drenched in the golden, afternoon light
   which lead to a small cluster of fragrant orange trees. 

We stood at that very spot once, 
 many years later and took a photo together.
  It's long gone but I remember it; 
   you arms were wrapped around my hips

Holding me delicately, as if I were a treasure.
 I was turned slightly, curled in the warmth of 
  your shoulder, eyes closed as you kissed the
   side of my head, on the temple, so sweetly. 

Every time I look at that photo,
 I imagine us there - ghosts of love
  that never blossomed, but had always stayed
   sweet - and I smile at what could've been.