I write so many silent poems about you

The words swirl and mix and create their own life

As quick as they come, they leave also
To make room for the next line
The next paragraph

Of a kiss or a whispered word
A tear welling up or freely falling
Fingertips on my back, water droplets running down to the floor with gravity

The words feel like a river, breathing in
Flowing down and around the bend
Gallons of water and pages of thoughts

Feelings rushing in warm and swift and pooling

Before they rush to the next basin

And on and on and on and on

You can never stand in the same river twice

And I can never remember the exact words I want to write about you

Because I just live in them in that moment
They pool around me. Your fingertips like little water droplets on my back
Running down with gravity

And this is a very disjunct poem because after-the-fact I just can’t pull the exact words I felt

Because you can never stand in the same river twice.