Erratic.

Is there anything in me that is desirable?
Do I convey softness or are my approaches
wrong when I have courage to speak,
look up, and breathe off tension?

Will I lose your taste before it's even proclaimed as mine?
Nothing found in lust, only rooted in love as delicate
thoughts extend through fingertips to branches
that not only move us, but others.

Honeydew and caramel peeled from newborn plastic,
1:37 am dreams where I pace back and forth, not able
to relax onto the sofa or be content with television
dramas.

See, I'm not worried about what age I may have
my first date, I don't want the emotion betrayed
by time's urgency.
I'm worried that one won't see in me what is there,
a deer always on the brink of being caught by
high beams yet managing to scatter back to
wilderness.

I have absolutely no idea where your eyes
were born from, but they warmed the cold sea
in me, and whether you were a fisherman
surveying a unique catch or just someone
who knows the beauty of stillness,

I hope we walk together again.
In that moment, my teeth stopped chattering,
the other girl went home, and you stopped
to listen, to hold my heart perhaps.

Maybe I am overlooking a simple project-
speak, film, edit and move ahead.
You are only a freshmen once.
But maybe, when I progress,
I can be brought back to you in the
comfort of knowing I am memorable

when I begin to open up.

-
Written 12/07/13