Wanting

I want something from someone that I don't think I want.
And I didn't even know I wanted it,
until I felt it
and it felt good,
like a memory
that fills you up
that I forgot.
And I want it, again.
But I don't think I want him.


And I say "think," now
when a week ago
that seven-worded statement would have been four
"I don't want him."
I would know
for sure.
No.
But it's "think" now..."think."


We're different
I can't see it.
Where could we possibly connect?
And I've kept up a distance
Maintained it for two years
with smiles, and "maybes," and quiet replies and quick goodbyes
Persistence on both sides.
A routine.
Plans? Busy.
Question and response.
Rote completion.
But he made me see him.

Who knew copies, and boxes left in my room, and toothpicks could do that?
I didn't see it coming.
I think that's why it has worked.

I dreamed about him last night.
This morning, I looked more closely.
I just can't see it.
How can you want a piece of a person?
It's the most I've wanted from a person so far.

I want something from someone that I don't think I want.
I don't know what I want.
I didn't even know I wanted it,
until I felt it
and it felt good,
like a memory
that fills you up
that I forgot.
And I want it, again.
But I don't think I want him.