I never wanted to cling to every word you said to me
as if it were your last.
I never wanted to know the way your hair curved above your forehead like a wave about to crash,
or how I imagined running my hands through its soft currents.
I never wanted to get lost in the depths of your eyes
because I knew each chestnut oasis was a portal to your vulnerability,
and that would destroy me.
I never wanted to remember of the way you beamed with a smile
bright enough to evaporate pouring rain in a thunderstorm.
I never wanted to touch your skin so I could feel the pulse
that reminded me of your humanity.
I never wanted to discover that the calm of your voice
was the only thing I searched for in a crowded room.
I never wanted to realize you were the only one who understood
every scar within my soul.
I never wanted to walk together until we faded
into a landscape we couldn’t wait to paint together.
I never wanted to love you;
but here I am.