A Poem

[_how_we_do]

before i begin this poem
i would like to tell you
that i dont mean any of it.
im just writing this poem about you,
and not about your hands
and their soft heavy weight
or about the sound of your breathing
in the hours before dawn.
i wouldnt write a poem
about the words you let go
into the well of my ear
like a thin silver thread.
i wouldnt tell anyone
that you dont really know
all the answers
i wouldnt tell anyone
(especially in a poem)
that you taste like silver
and your eyes tell secrets
when they're bleary with sleep.
and i wouldnt tell a soul
how hard my hear beats now
when our eyes meet
by accident.
so maybe i wont
write a poem at all
because all i could say about you
if i dont say that, is:
maybe i love you.

-celeste LeCompte