Overthinking
My would-be love, my hope for more,
expectation seeps from my pores.
I know that this was not our deal:
we said we’d wait, take time to feel
in chemistry’s good time, and time
has incubated my sublime
feelings, which I admit are young.
I’m relearning this tricky tongue–
the one that lets me speak to you
without interpretation’s skew
of the true self I’d have you see;
but all this time you’re changing me.
The man you might learn to adore,
because of doubt, may be no more.
I’m overthinking you.
I think and think, try to recall
your story about that guy Paul.
If I know your stories, I know you,
and any love is only true
through knowing–so I study hard,
yet my overthinking retards
the knowing, so I emerge void.
I clung too well: the thing’s destroyed.
Yet there you are again, after
a few days, a few weeks. Laughter
again bounces between us and
deflects my overthinking. Strands
of your hair now brush fear away,
time drains itself out of the day,
and I love without checking first.
My thoughts lose their immortal thirst.
2008-08-02