5.5.2013 • We talked too much

to a certain very dear friend—
and partly, at first perhaps, to a misendeared aquaintance;
a transformation of address.

[We talked too much]

We talked so much
but I wanted to give you
                                      a poem
I wanted to ask you to
           hold me awhile
just for a little while

We talked so much
but I wanted to write
                          you a kiss
                         on your lips
with a mortal, fading ink
—we have no need for vows
me and you (nor anyone else)

We talked too much
though it will never
                 be enough
Even when it’s too much
it will never be enough

I wanted to draw a bird
                         in your eyes
                    your irises to fly
—maybe they will, it doesn’t
have to be me,
doesn’t have to be me
but I wanted it all the
                                    same

We talked too little
& too much
& only fleetingly embraced;
next time maybe I’ll ask.