All the things I don’t want to say:

The way I yearn for a presence–
The actuality of your human reality
That sweat-and-blood smell below your skin
The micro-expressions of micro-fibers playing at your cheeks, crinkling your eyes
The calmness of your lips when you allow silence
And the paradox of an unwavering stare guarding racing thoughts–
This midst in which to sit so you may be known.
And yet this distance is drawn with so many lines
So I draw these pictures of rabbits and foxes
I draw these pictures, you see, to draw my focus to curves and shades
To draw relief because there’s mostly blank spaces for illustrations of you and me
And those spaces have details and traces we haven’t seen
Like the places I sleep and the songs I play to keep away bad dreams
During times of grief, and then how brightness I find
Could you see these roads I’ve traveled by
These roads that seem to bear an eternal horizon line
And then forget eternity for just one moment to look back at me
Switch your eyes to a macro lens
Because this is a close up, so pull me close
And hold me tight, darling, because what I see
Are nights past that almost buried us
That line we walk between triumph and tragedy is a tightrope, and it’s thin
So hold me tight
This entity to which we give alms and call Society
Has tried to tell me of the everything I could forfeit in this way I step
But if I choose to stop treating this like it’s a game, what’s it to me whether I win or lose
And how dare I compare the sanctity of a spark of nerves to my shielded words
To say You are on my mind marks just as bold and dangerous, if not worse
The thrill of those words lurch in my stomach
Like I’m hoping my seatbelt is locked for this ride
And can I just warn you of the way that I cry
And how often I bruise and bleed and am rippled with scars
Just look at my knees, but I’m hoping you’ll find you aren’t scared to see
And understand how my abstract flying and sweat and sea set me free
And know that when I risk to use my arms like my words,
Everything turns on fire to me.

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