I, girl, may like you, boy.
But between the two of us,
we have a pair of hearts more
scar tissue than beating; and four
hands reaching out desperately
for the ghosts of love slipping
through these fingertips.
We both know the meaning
of the word longing far more than
we should. And desire is just another
crack, a break forever in our already
crumbling ribcages. You and I
both know that desire comes
from the Latin, sidus. That means
star. To desire means wanting to bring
the stars down to you. But you and I both
know that to obtain the objects of our
desire has the same likelihood of
happening as staying up all
night and urging the stars down
to earth. You and I call out other names
in our sleep; neither of us is looking for love –
just someone to hold through the night.
Maybe I, girl, love you, boy; or maybe
it’s just your smile. In the darkness,
it’s hard to tell the difference.