Enthralled by your significance
and the way you are and aren’t
all at once.
And the way I am and am not
when you hold my hands.
Did you know that your hands
are like small houses for the
unsightly curves of me.
You smell like the sound of a
front door at 5:31 and music
that makes me forget I’m driving.
Your existence is not my purpose
but believe it or not I find some in
the thought of sleeping with you
and your warm feet.
Everyone leaves but I hope God
knows that you can’t.
You can’t leave because I will leave
and become am not again.
I want to be am but sometimes am
is too much. When you aren’t and I
am not we can be that small part
of the quiet that is and isn’t.
Maybe your eyes are brown but
your smile is green in the iris
of your gaze.
I never wanted to say hello so much.  
So hello.