i feel like i am boiling.
i'm not sure if that makes sense.

i imagine you in grays and blues
and paved streets and brick
buildings. you are so very much
in your element on concrete and
in architectural feats. i knew you
would not settle (how could you)
with me but i was hoping for a
change of heart change of pace
change of of of of you and me and
some semblance of a future like we
talked about. where is the line
between wanting and needing
because i think i crossed it back in
november the first time you said
my name and squinted one eye
at me that way i like. sometimes i
look east and wonder if the london
air feels lucky to wrap itself
around you. do you ever look west
and wonder the same of me?

i can only love in splinters,
in tsunamis.