I don't think I'll ever be close enough
to you. Like so close
that I can feel your heartbeat
in every part of myself.
It seems weird to want to
open you up and check out your soul
but that's exactly what I want.
I need to see what you know
and what you've felt
and who you are.
Because right now you're just a name
and a pair of ever-moving hands
that just won't settle
on my body.

Let's have one of those
breathtaking
romances.
Where I can expect
nothing
and only find things that
explode my gut and rip me apart.
But in the good way, of course.

Maybe we could carve
our names into an old tree
in some abandoned park
nobody knows the name of.
Or we could count stars from a checkered blanket
on a hill and find
the big dipper
and you'll wrap your arm around me
because it's cold at night, you know,
and you wouldn't want me to freeze
to death.

Really, though, you could just hold
my hand under a table
while we learn about the earth
and whatever else actually goes on
in that class. It would be nice
if you held my heart as well
in your solid embrace where it would be
safe.

We could be quiet about it.
Hushed voices against a symphony
in the hallway.
If that's what you want, I mean.
We'd sneak around corners
and into the darkness of
just us and your face
when the light catches it. It's heart-stopping,
the moments that I can't speak
for the settlement on my tongue
strangling me. I want to break
free from everything bad,
everything in the middle.

Because they aren't you.