YouBot

If I could
decant our conversations,
filter away sedimental emotion -
this
gagged love*, this saline sadness, this anger
etc -
and pour
only
the froth of
our younger words,

If I could
distill a you that would
only
sublime ideas with me
on the tip of your unattainable tongue,

If I could
lie in bed after a summer sunset
with a subset of
the fragile complexity that makes you
you

I would.

...

* - I shall keep my promise