I can’t stop looking at the your complexities
the circularity and the linearity
you prove to possess: your angles tempt me;
there are stories there.
you have an appreciation of audience that
makes me think this is love and with
your notions of why, the sweep of your scene,
I could talk about you all day
gently mimicking your clipped vowels
and the way you move the light
to suit your purpose, and how you
let me see into your many minds
I find solace and being and real
answers and resolutions that
seem as designed as your perfectly
perfect wardrobe even though
occasionally there is something
you are not telling me and
I feel shameful of my idiocy
and angry in inadequacy, but it goes.
today was ours.
I won’t stop thinking about you.
you make me want to lie down.