13 things

13 things i’m telling you all of this because i feel like it’s important for two people to recognize when a connection begins to feel like home.

1. tonight when our friend brought up a godard film, you said, “oh, she can tell you all about godard.”

2. tonight, when i sunk a shot in pool that was fatter than a chance in hell, you looked at me and i felt like together we could conquer the world.

3. tonight, i feel like telling you that this is the first time i have written in a while.

4. tonight i feel like telling you that your presence makes me want to write poetry again—an inclination that not even new york city could inspire.

5. tonight, i feel like telling you that my heart ached for the month that we didn’t speak. for the first time in years i was terrified that i would never hear from a certain person again.

6. i want to paint you as a spanish flower, a pilsner glass, a button-up shirt, a rendition of shakespeare’s most obscure, a heart pulsing so real no one could deny it, a set of dark eyes. i want to paint you as a poem should be painted, void of thought, only containing pure emotion.

7. i want to tell you all of this but i am afraid.

8. not afraid of you, necessarily.

9. only the general fear, the irrational kind that gnaws away at night.

10. it tells me that i love too much, or hate too much, whichever suits my mood that day. but i don’t want to be “too much” of anything.

11. i simply want to be enough.

12. for you.

13. and i believe in Us Together.