The night before first...
Awkward. Not bad. Easy. Mirth behind your bright, dark, intelligent eyes. Something authentic and perhaps even shy in a smile I immediately liked.
This is me to you, in a time more appropriate than now to say it - at a time appropriate to let you know my recollection of the night before first when I first met you. Navigating first night with you. And the real first night that came the next. "Ostensibly," as you might put it, for my wondering over you those three days scarcely let me separate them at all.
I'm heading back in the morning, I'm nervous to see you, but I'm excited, too. I'm hoping, perhaps wresting, that you would understand right now; if not now, then at a time more appropriate than this very night - the night before the rest begin - when things are still floating solidly on a current of hope and non-definitions and intrigue.
I hope I don't tell you any sooner than appropriate that I do not trust my instincts tonight in the way that my instincts are compelling me to trust you... just enough to walk towards you, be curious about you, get to know you. I hope I don't tell you any sooner than appropriate that I have guarded myself well in the past but was exposed and gauged much too deeply in a more recent past than I like to admit, than what might seem apparent... and it shocks me to feel myself gravitating with indulgent, curious abandon, rather without a great amount of fear as I would suppose, but premature or not, you have gravity, and I like your pull.
If I speak without leverage, please forgive me. I hope my intrigue is... [well-hidden] [at present] but that later it is justified to have existed.
I hope I can pry open the bars just enough to be only as vulnerable as you need me to be, without leaning too far into you. I hope that if ever you see this, it is because a time has come that there are no bars and there are no fears of leaning too little or too much and goodness, if it is so, sweetheart(?) - I can end that term only with a question mark today, but I gild it with hope that I have removed that question mark at the appropriate time, a time well before you read this - if it is so sweetheart, that you can and do lean on me as much as you need. I encourage you. My fear is that you may never hear that encouragement and I hope by now you saw well past my smoke and mirrors and can see that I have only been looking hopelessly out... And maybe at a more appropriate time, that hope is realized in you, sweetheart... (?).
I assume full responsibility if I am being a fool. But I think I want to really know you. I think I really want you to know me. I pledge now to do my best to let you. In the past it has ruined me every time, disallowing access in.
Remember. We both wrote our first poems. Lusty. Raw. True enough. Mine did not fully embrace my attraction because you are such a very fine man that any words I could use don't seem worthy. Perhaps remembered more sweetly in a time more appropriate than now, in a time where archiving these green, green words, will make more sense than now and reap some intangible euphoria we can both eventually smile about, for the raw, awkward, lusty and brash pieces they are.
[Private]
In a time more appropriate than now... And for this last thing, this one thing, I hope tomorrow I can make it clear that I am happy I met you, and happy to be seeing you again. I hope that we both can read this one line later, knowing that all the clarity needed was there... tomorrow.
This is me to you, in a time more appropriate than now to say it - at a time appropriate to let you know my recollection of the night before first when I first met you. Navigating first night with you. And the real first night that came the next. "Ostensibly," as you might put it, for my wondering over you those three days scarcely let me separate them at all.
I'm heading back in the morning, I'm nervous to see you, but I'm excited, too. I'm hoping, perhaps wresting, that you would understand right now; if not now, then at a time more appropriate than this very night - the night before the rest begin - when things are still floating solidly on a current of hope and non-definitions and intrigue.
I hope I don't tell you any sooner than appropriate that I do not trust my instincts tonight in the way that my instincts are compelling me to trust you... just enough to walk towards you, be curious about you, get to know you. I hope I don't tell you any sooner than appropriate that I have guarded myself well in the past but was exposed and gauged much too deeply in a more recent past than I like to admit, than what might seem apparent... and it shocks me to feel myself gravitating with indulgent, curious abandon, rather without a great amount of fear as I would suppose, but premature or not, you have gravity, and I like your pull.
If I speak without leverage, please forgive me. I hope my intrigue is... [well-hidden] [at present] but that later it is justified to have existed.
I hope I can pry open the bars just enough to be only as vulnerable as you need me to be, without leaning too far into you. I hope that if ever you see this, it is because a time has come that there are no bars and there are no fears of leaning too little or too much and goodness, if it is so, sweetheart(?) - I can end that term only with a question mark today, but I gild it with hope that I have removed that question mark at the appropriate time, a time well before you read this - if it is so sweetheart, that you can and do lean on me as much as you need. I encourage you. My fear is that you may never hear that encouragement and I hope by now you saw well past my smoke and mirrors and can see that I have only been looking hopelessly out... And maybe at a more appropriate time, that hope is realized in you, sweetheart... (?).
I assume full responsibility if I am being a fool. But I think I want to really know you. I think I really want you to know me. I pledge now to do my best to let you. In the past it has ruined me every time, disallowing access in.
Remember. We both wrote our first poems. Lusty. Raw. True enough. Mine did not fully embrace my attraction because you are such a very fine man that any words I could use don't seem worthy. Perhaps remembered more sweetly in a time more appropriate than now, in a time where archiving these green, green words, will make more sense than now and reap some intangible euphoria we can both eventually smile about, for the raw, awkward, lusty and brash pieces they are.
[Private]
In a time more appropriate than now... And for this last thing, this one thing, I hope tomorrow I can make it clear that I am happy I met you, and happy to be seeing you again. I hope that we both can read this one line later, knowing that all the clarity needed was there... tomorrow.