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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