The Shape of Your Body

The shape of your body gives me something to run my fingers over. You remind me of nothing and I like it like that. You fatigue me and give me rest.

I come with hope in my spirit, no fire but mellowed flame that could burn much longer. Liana I hold, myself carries, this home supports, the campus I travel – all of it feels like something new. Sophomore year in a day has been freeing. I feel little anxiety in introductions, more ability to learn, more interest in the world. And in large Liana has given me so much of that. I’ve come very quickly to adore her. I’m intimidated by her too. And her world. It’s beyond me in many ways. I feel when I’m with her friends not so important, and other times a trophy. I wonder if she’ll grow bored of me. I feel myself a mellow flame. I’ve come to settle into that more, and understand myself more honestly in that. I love people, I love talking. And I love quiet. I love 1 on 1. I don’t like the chaos of love and loss like a play every time someone spots a friend on the other side of the room.  Liana is the opposite. 

Her life comes and makes her too busy for me. And I wouldn’t fight it – she likes that life. It makes her happy. The truth here in it all is that I don’t feel so secure with her. Maybe because she forgot our day, maybe because she already left me, maybe because we’re so different, maybe because she said she doesn’t want to date me yet because she could see a real future with me. How quickly she’s drawn my heart. And I felt yesterday as if I wanted to be with her all the time, and felt hurt for a few hours that she was so busy and wouldn’t with me. She’s a girl in love with the world and there aren’t enough of those for wanting men to pluck them for ourselves.

I love life in a way that means I love one so that in them I see the same beauty that I know so surely lives in all pieces, and in them comes forth all in the world I feel. She isn’t so. She sees it wide and gathers from the well of the Earth in the deep that underlies all of the country.

Often I wonder if she sees me at all. Worst when she tells me she understands me in a deep way, then do I feel the least understood. The only person I understand in a deep way is my dead dad. The dead are easily understood.

My dream is someone who wants to spend endless hours with me and who I never feel is trying to drop me off. I feel as if dating her and asking for her to spend more time with me would be an imposition and not her own desire.

She’s a smudged dream, my thumb held out and over blocking the sun to see what I will.

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