This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem

Cobblestone,
Your eyes candlelit, blazing
I've lit a fire for you

Oh the fumbling of hands we share, here
The fumbling of elements many have felt
And I wonder if I am any different--

A trundled body of mistaken chemicals
Brash, raw--

Nevertheless
I wish to learn the angles
To love

--
c

Day One:
Fresh Cabernet threatens the coffee table
Two seats too far to suggest anything

I fiddle with the idea of you
Muscles drawn in, eyes strained back
But can only imagine
from here

Night, then day
careless, shift about
like two sheets of ice on water
and now
I see you

Striped shirt stretched, worn jeans fidgeting the edge of your seat
Imprinting bits of flash left lingering on retinas

I wish to be in, on, around
Heat protruding chest and breath

I wish to be near, new, but am left
Beating hard
Fast


Day Two:
Light to dark running overtime
Occasion breeds conversation

You want to come over again
A buzzing
“I’m here”
and suddenly
you don’t seem so far away suddenly
heat and breath and chest and all beat and accord mine suddenly
timelightspace in between are irrelevant to how we measure skin suddenly
I see you except this time it’s all of you.

Every particle prodding upon my very reality
‘Tis a luxury,
Wild nights like these, and
I wish upon every length of being
that you
see me
too

--
c