When I first met you, I noticed your socks

above your ankles and rolled down slightly.

The first word that popped into my mind:

kindness

The real beginning

transpired out of a moment

that should have been filled with pain

(and it was).

Then I looked into your eyes:

simultaneously, I was hurt

and felt closer to you.

*I still barely know you

I think about you now on late night walks home

(yes, I think about you, and I do not know why).

Somewhere the lines all blurred into one fleeting feeling,

an ambiguous inarticulation—

                                the remnants of which morph into

           A deep desire:

                                                    to be wrapped into your arms, lying in bed

                                                    to wake up in the morning

                                                              and see how the light

                                                                   from your window

                                                              falls on your face

                                                             and watch the shadows

                                                                   form on your body.

                                                 to lay my head on your chest

        and hear your vibrations

I am fragile

(I rather stay ignorant than shatter).

So, instead,

I will look at the morning light

coming from my bedroom window

until time works to fade

and all that remains are shadows.

*I will never know you like that