I don’t know you well enough
or I’d read you this poem.
I don’t know you well enough,
though your quite handsome.

I don’t know you well enough
for you to care about my interests,
I don’t know you well enough —
we haven’t reached that level yet.

I don’t know you well enough,
but if I did I wouldn’t want to.
I don’t know you well enough,
please keep playing elusive.

I like your life, but
I don’t know you well enough
to like your instagrams —
it could seem stalker-ish.

We’ve talked about dinner,
but I don’t know when
or if we’ll actually go.
I don’t know you well enough.

I don’t know you well enough,
but text you regardless,
you invite me backhanded
to your friends' plans.

I don’t know you well enough,
to hold your glance,
you buy me a beer,
my hands fold between my legs.

I don’t know you well enough,
but I know when your drunk.
Your friends leave
and I give you a ride home.

I don’t know you well enough,
but you invite me in,
your cat treats me like
a familiar friend.

I don’t you well enough,
but I know when we share spit,
it just lubricates comments
on our horniness.

I don’t know you well enough,
but I know your apartment —
your couch is too squishy
and your bed is too close.

I don’t know you well enough.
I ask if *** will ruin this,
but don't know what this is.

I don’t know you well enough,
but I sleep in your bed.
Your rolling-over motion
was disappointing,
but not unexpected.

I STILL don’t know you well enough,
but I know three unanswered texts
means your not interested
in telling me.

Or perhaps,
I don’t know you well enough.

I don’t know you well enough,
but I’m getting to know me
and I know that naiive
isn’t who I want to be.