So My thoughts are consumed by you man who I hardly know man whose name sounds like a cartoon dinosaur man who is twenty years my elder man who likes the company of other men.
Man who plants vegetables and herbs in his backyard whose brother died in an accident six years ago man who wears wire-rimmed glasses and keeps his pepper-flecked hair combed neatly in a part.
I hope you will forgive me for being so forward because your name has no business rolling off my tongue when I am driving alone in my car and the thought of you has no right to cast a smile on my face like a reflex natural and involuntary.
But I couldn't go another day without saying I am not in love with you but you make me feel something. A lukewarm sentiment, I know, but you are fire rushing down my throat and not filling me up and leaving my heart wanting (more).
Man who is neither short nor tall, thin nor fat who keeps surplus basil in his freezer man whose face I imagine so often I can no longer see man who my hands so badly want to touch man who will never love me.