I remember laying on your bed,
listening to you breathe
So warm, so sweet,
with no where to be.
Every once in awhile I’d look up to see you
to see which direction your lips curved
to see the dance your eyes moved.
I remember that room’s smell, earthy like forest floors.
For a moment I didn’t remember all the other “her”s
For a moment,
it was just me and you.
the kind of escapism found in my vices
the kind of safety around those devices
the kind of truth those half-truths lie in
and no, I didn’t mean lay in.
but it wasn’t a noise, a click, or a pixel
it was the way you slowly dropped the pencil
as your eye closed, exhausted
you were a slave, captive, arrested.
this was the first moment I felt rested
I would have never slept again,
if it meant we connected.
As I felt your breath
what let you drift off? What made it so easy?
The grey rain? The plain words? The soft cloth?
I wanted to sleep too,
next to you quiet
Not that I’d ever know the texture.
Not that I’d ever rest with her.
I dream at night,
and drift like you did,
I’m there too.
but that laptops my head.
the blanket my arms.
those dancing eyes find me
and keep me from harm.
yet the worst part
my unsecreted admirer.
if you said you dreamt about me?
you’re a liar.
but no better truth,
could let me soar higher.
to my love, my friend,
it’s your secret admirer.
your faithful shoulder,
a humble enquirer
This is your love poem,
to no one in particular.
– to no one in particular 12/2/17