there’s many things i’d like to tell you
i want to ask how your day went and if you were happier than ever
i’d like to ask if you’re alright and if not you can talk about it
but if you don’t want to that’s fine too
i want to know your favorite things and why these are the songs
that seem to leave their rhythm in your heart—
what makes your heart stop and what makes it spark?
are you an evening person or do you like when the morning sun kisses your skin telling you quietly “wake up darling, it’s a new day”
or do you like staying in when the rain pours outside while lovers share umbrellas?
did that pretty stranger you passed by in the street
make your heart stop gently the way you do to mine
or do you look down when you walk?
do i maybe cross your mind even if very briefly?
but all these questions and everything that i mean with such purity
are of no use—
once i begin to speak to you the words
stop in my
throat
with such shyness like death
and i stay
quiet like
this.