I wish I could fall in love with the boy I see in the mornings
The one who sits in the back of the class
With his fingers resting on his desk
I know his face so much better than the faces I’ve lost over
It is soft and unweathered
Yet to be traded in sinister motives and the mortal conscious
The way he breathes is not overly considered
And it’s easier to convince someone who has the time to listen
…
He is taller than me
With a strong jaw to wave when we talk
A mighty gesture to the glory of the weather
Or politics, some godly small-talk
My face fits between it and his collarbone
The heartbeat is easier to reach
A simplicity that becomes luxury in silence
…
His toes ***** in a way I could want for a son
They tap when he sings his ballads
In a voice good enough
He can sit through a symphony without falling asleep
And he nods to acknowledge the history I tell him
With a smile
He smiles at me
In a way that could mean something if I camp under it long enough
…
Perchance we stamp our wedding vows
On a monument to convenience
To legalize curling up in each other’s breathing place
And tolerate the stench of desperation