I do not know how to turn this into poetry,
so I say it in the dark,
while we cover our eyes.
And it isn't fair,
really.
I don't see you for years,
and I'm still not over you?
You used to say that running away from things
doesn't make them go away.
Well, good,
then.
Even after all this time.
It was always hard to watch you give up on everything.
I never wanted to be a part of that list.
For the record,
I think I'm in love with you.
You smile the same way you did
when we were 16;
artless and unbinding,
like it is pivotal that everything stays this way
for just one more moment.
We grew up,
but we are still the same.
That boundless love of living--
the joy of it.
This
and this,
and this,
I say.
I look at you like I never learned to do anything else.