I am obsessed
with the details of today.
I thought it over and I’m thinking it over and I believe I understand
the implications of my actions and the thought behind yours.
I love being the love
the care of your day on a series of days when you desperately need it,
but especially on days when it’s just the frosting
on something that is already okay.
I can do that, I think.
I can be there, I believe.
I will be better than what you expect of me.
Not exactly what you want me to be
but beyond anything that was so clearly
a perfect match.
to smile when you see me–
that is enough
to be dangerously what I lust
A one way love,
or a two way dependency that continues down
becoming a small, stealthy,
pathway to being distraught
that we so failed to recognize because
we were wandering and did not ask to end up on this path.
I just thought that waking up this morning
and having my love lie in my arms,
kissing your cheek indefinitely,
meant no direction was needed:
if everything was inevitable
if it all led to this.