Well…
this is not good.

I really, really hoped
you would look worse,
smell worse,
sound worse,
feel worse,
kiss worse…

But you are perfect.
Which means
I have a problem.

You're a gifted writer.
Every word you write
flirts with me.

And there's not much
you can do about it—
except stop writing.

But then,
it will be your silence
flirting with me.

I thought I was happy
until I felt
a tear
slip down my cheek.

I wasn’t sad—
or at least, I didn’t feel so.
It was just something inside me,
letting out one last cry.

I think I'm falling for you—
I can feel the ache,
its every telltale sign.

I think I'm falling for you—
have needed to, wanted to,
since I can remember.

I think I'm falling for you—
for the idea of you
I couldn’t help but create.

I remember all of them.
Maybe because there only were a few.
Still, I would sacrifice one of them
—but no more—
and instead of love and sleep, the two most beautiful things,
I would soak up
the scent of the moment,
the depth of existence,
the essence of life,
disregarding the finitude of moments.
And I would etch every detail into my memory—
our bodies,
the room,
the sounds outside the window.
I would give my entire old age
for the chance to live forever in one night,
next to you,
in a time of love.

As long as you're here,
as long as this works in its own way,
I'll keep taking
the hits,
the sips,
the bites.

Because you're the kind of substance
that makes me want to write,
contemplate life,
and feel the ache.

There she was—
the only woman in a room of men.
She sat on the side
and looked around gently
as she taped her hands.

I tried not to look at her too often,
but she truly was
a rare sight, a relic of sorts.

She stole so many of my glances,
I couldn't help but feel guilty,
and only hoped I was
the only man in the room
from whom she took control.

Then it started.
And as we were forming pairs,
nobody picked her.
Nobody wanted to be
either the wolf who feasts
or the wolf who hurts.

And I wonder if she will ever understand
that it wasn't that she wasn't
good enough for us,
but that she was too good.