I want to want you,
I want to say something
so you’ll turn your head and come
to me.
I want to ask you
for affection and attention
so we could curl up together
and exhale the night away.
Yet I’m sitting here, seemingly
daydreaming
lost in what if’s with every step
I take, back
towards where we first saw
eye-to-eye, and foresaw
bliss in our first “tell” without the
innuendo’d “show.”
And you’re on my mind tonight
again
it’s a repetitive thing—like how I’ve been
chasing my tale—
a cycle of wonder, wander, want—
Then what?
That’s so feline:
wanting things—
or seeming to and all the while
I’m wanting You
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