Sometimes I wonder whether it’s appropriate for me to be writing yearning after a married stranger
And others I’m so caught up in the moment I don’t even think
It’s not rational but I’m not trying to be rational when I write about him just
This is the space where I can feel anything
And anything includes being madly in love with
With
An idea?
A voice?
His music?
But you see he has these mannerisms that come out in videos that make my heart twist with
With love
His voice makes me feel like I’ve just come home
His eyes so blue so deep I forget my often miserable place in life for a second I
Just see him.
This modern era has such imbalance as
He is a stranger I know very well
Yet know nothing at all
And it’s strange because I’ve known him most of my life now
But I’m invisible to him completely
Which means I’m invisible to any wife he has
Which means why the hell not write a couple thousand poems for a stranger I guess
All I know is that I have experienced being in love a few times and this is
This is not obsession
This is not obsession because I no longer write five poems a day because my thoughts won’t leave him like when I was sick
I feel something so complex and unnameable
That’s why I keep it to myself in my little box on the internet
I’ll just leave it in the little box on the internet
I love you
I wish I could show you
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