Limerance
There’s a push to ask you for your name,
And a pull ‘cause I have no right to know,
As I stand in the corner of the venue
With nothing in my mind except the color of your eyes.
There’s a push to sift through every word
And a pull to flee from disappointment
Still I remember and I polish all your words
And call myself the author of the author of their shine.
There’s a push from my husband and he’s laughing,
And a pull from my husband ‘cause he’s scared
And I’m standing on one foot while juggling cats
And I don’t want what I want,
And I don’t want what I want.
NOTE: No husbands were harmed in the writing of this poem. Said husband says he's merely bemused, not scared.
NOTE2: This may not be the finished work.
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