Knefe,
sweet, warm, impossible to forget.

My favorite Lebanese dessert,

and somehow, your nickname, too.

Though you don’t know it
yet.

I feel foolish for liking you this much,

but every thought of you brings a smile,

even through the tears that streak my face.

You cross my mind, and the world fades,

your name louder than any silence.

I long for you

your voice, your gaze, your impossible closeness.

But I know.
I know you don’t feel the same.

I shouldn’t talk to you.

I shouldn’t dream of you.

And yet, I still try.

Try, because sometimes it feels effortless,

and other times it’s a weight I can barely carry.

But isn’t that what love is?

The sweet and the bitter,

the crazy pull toward someone

who has no idea the power they hold.

You’ve consumed me whole,

made me wild,

made me crazy

crazy for you.