Lovesick

You knock on
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIthe
door, as if you’d
never lived here before,
not even visited for
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIlong.
And I open it and we
stare as if we’re two
strangers meeting
after
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIdays,
weeks, years. I can
almost imagine what
you might look like in
ten years’ time, wrinkles
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIof
past and secrets etched
into your skin.
Your beauty in the evening
light almost makes
my
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIheart break
yet again.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII “Might
I come in?” you ask,
strangely polite, voice
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIjust
barely over a murmur.
I wave you in,
speechless. To
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIbe
in this first moment
of meeting eyes
is beautiful and I
almost wish it
would never have to be
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIover.