I don't want to love you like this.
I don't want to play games with sensuality,
lingering too long with every touch,
aware of the power in my fingertips
as they trace your skin
beneath your clothing-
knowing I could remove them all with this one coy finger.
I don't want to look for answers in how your body
translate your sighs as promises
you never meant to keep.
It is so very convincing, you leaning into me
and perhaps if I lean back
you'll believe in this surface love of mine.
A love that would rather feel your arms
than hear your words.
That wants to kiss your lips to stop
you from asking questions.
Stop checking in with me and press into me--
that way I can choose what I want to hear
through what I feel.
That way I can continue to be deceived
by this thing I call love.
If ignorance is bliss than
I am strung out on lust,
high off an idea
that the longer you hold me
the longer I can hide.
But you see me.
You see that I am afraid
not of loving you
but what it might mean to let you love me.
What I might have to give.
What I would have to share with you
for you to truly see me.
Oh the weight of my heart is so much heavier
than your entire body on mine.
I don't want to love you easy,
I want a much more fragile nakedness.
I want more than just to want you,
I want to know you.
I want to be more distracted by your
integrity than I am by
how I know you will feel;
to see your thoughts as response
to your heart.
To let you see all that you cannot touch
and touch so sweetly
all that you cannot see.
I want to love you in ways
I don't yet know how.
As published on Elephant Journal: http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/01/i-want-to-love-you-poem/