What If?

If we were to meet again,
suddenly,
I wonder, would I still gasp
as a fresh salmon in a grass basket?
Would I still imagine that I suffered
the effects of a bad migraine?

If we were to meet again,
suddenly,
while turning the corner of a busy street
in our small town
would I feel the blood pounding,
hear it rushing to my head as a Niagara one afternoon in June?

I taste you in retrospect,
as I do the wine I had yesterday at dinner
and I must admit,
that though sweet to the tongue then
I had a lot of regrets
when I greeted the sun today-
for my indulgence.

If we were to meet again,
suddenly,
after all these years;
would I be tempted to slap your face,
something owed you since forever,
or will I let laughter escape my body
in a roaring cascade,
at myself, mind you,
for thinking that you would have waited
for me to grow up?