Could I tell you, if I wanted to?
All that is going on inside.
In one corner is all that I wish to be.
All that you make me feel.
The scent of watermellon.
The feel of your hand flat on mine.
The smell of your shoulder.
I touch the blades of grass and I think of you.
I think I am crazy.
I think I am in love.
I think I am stupid.
I know not what I am.
Not truly.
Maybe because I don't know what you are.
Where you are.
You look at me,
In my eyes,
And I feel connected.
Peaceful.
But entirely alone as well.
As if I know you but don't know you in equal parts;
It's not a contradiction I enjoy carrying.
On the other side is life.
The one that keeps moving while I stop to contemplate.
While I stop to look at you.
While I stop to smell the watermelon and look at the greenery.
It keeps moving.
And I stay back.
I think I need to.
There is a part of me that is unresolved in you.
There is a part of me that needs to know you
And who I am within you.
But time is painful.
The clock points at you, taunting me,
Reminding me that I am slow,
A turtle in comparison to a lion.
I do not know what animal you are.
If you are one at all.
If we are compatible.
Or if I am the prey and you the predotor.
Or maybe, simply, two different species.
Appreciative of one another,
Living in cohesion but never fully present.
I think I know you.
But I also know nothing at all.
This is what it is to currently love you.