I long to tell stories
Would you care to listen?
Or would you confuse my silence with disinterest,
My stillness with boredom?
I am sorry I have no sweet nothings to whisper to you.
Call me unromantic. Full of myself.
Would you still believe me if I said I love you so?
I long to take those journeys
Would you care to come along?
Or would it hurt because I smiled my smile at the stranger over coffee
And danced my dance. Rhythmless. Clumsy. Chaotic.
You think I am different.
Would you still wrap those arms around me
And yet let me go?