Poem to explain my Monday (or, how it feels to be unsure as to whether love is unrequited, and being too scared to find out because she is having a lot of fun and afraid to lose it)

he asks me questions and tailors my theories.

he listens not to most people but to me

and today I could not take my eyes away.

And when I am finished, he smiles a big smile, the one you only see when he flashes it by accident when you did something really funny and took him by surprise 

and tells me with all those teeth and the smiles in his eyes,

that was beautiful.

children of light,

two birds of many feathers shining together

perpetually caught swinging pendulum-time between the points

between passion and practicality

between devotion and dedication

between living and existing 

and between love and rationality.

wild nights inside

the ancient books that explain recent adventures,

the assembled theories, jumbled cross words:

intentions and that which is 

justiciable

never quite in tandem.

And one, 

starved for some semblance of love long desired:

peach fuzz and the flesh 

so soft and sturdy

a swim to the finish,-- what finish?--and

she, hungry for the win,

forgets the important parts.

Or she knows them

all by heart.

Everything we ever wanted

is here.