Lover's Lament (July '24 poem 2)

Your lips had kissed a thousand lips before they brushed with mine.
You'd tasted every apple as you searched for love divine.
Your hands had held a thousand hands before our fingers met.
You walked a thousand avenues that now I can't forget.
I wonder if you think of them as we are locked as one.
I wonder if comparisons have flowed since we begun.
I wonder if you muse on them when lain with me at night.
I wonder if it matters? And if not, why do I write?

RC 20-7-24