You inch closer to my ear,
I crawl a little to meet you;
Our elbows are touching,
and my heart is aching.

I heard you garnish promises,
with the tips of your fingers on bare skin,
I can feel your breath on my shoulder,
and your eyes on my face when I stare at the walls.

I can try to be brave,
I can be what you think I am,
But I admonish your advances towards my heart.

I walk on glass floors with glass slippers,
I live a very noisy existence.
I love quiet, I love the sound of quiet breaths,
The way that our eyes meet solemnly across a room,
I heard your kisses cut through the sorrow,
Oh, I have the grief of a hundred years in my mouth.

I can tell you what I want to want and what I need,
I hear you calling me in the middle of the night,
I’m too scared to let you hear the love screaming from my smile.

I love how your eyes never leave my face,
how you brush my hair behind my ear,
You’re made of light a light, of a hope,
too bright, too full of warm smiles and gentle caresses,
and I don’t know how to reciprocate this kind of affection.

The contrast between us is too extreme,
You’re everything poets write about,
I’m everything they don’t.
How do I keep up when I walk in muddy deserts,
when you’re gliding on marble floors?

You smile and walk beside me, stealing a glance,
as I try to feign disinterest.

You keep trying to make me feel special,
I don’t want to question the identity I’ve created over the years,
I’m the background wallpaper and you’re the masterpiece,
in the middle of the room,
praised by the spectators from all over the world.

We’re equally balanced, but I’m holding the edge,
to soften the impact of the crash,
while you’re spreading your arms, embracing the fall.
I’m sorry but can I strap on a parachute?

You reached the ground first,
turned around and said, “I’m in love with you.”

I gasped and said, “I’m still falling.”