"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Saturday, April 16, 2016

A Few of my Favorite Things

The truths I whisper at night
when it's dark and quiet and safe to say
extend into the sunlight.

Sometimes you look at me
and your expression is so warm
and soft and
brilliant in your affection
so bright that I have to close my eyes.
It's potent.
It's the stuff of bad poetry
and things I've never seen before, only heard about.

I'm sorry I don't see all of your parts at once.
I delight in you
and our story is funny and charming and I've spent
as many hours contemplating the inches of your skin
as I have engaged in conversation with you.
Talking to you is having someone to wander out
into the cold bright dark with.
It's new music and telling the truth
and feeling lines drawn down my back in a movie
and avoiding eye contact
because I can't trust my self control, even in public.

You leave me wanting more in a million ways
I find myself with words and stories slipping out
that I never would have guessed that I'd want to say
or share.

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