You’re looking at me,

Yes, you. At me. Right now.

With THAT look in your eyes.

Yes. That look.

The one that is telling me that there is an earthquake beneath your sea,

and the waves are on the verge of crashing on the shore.

Yes earth, I know your rhythms

Cause I’m a moon, I push and pull your waters.

And I can see it in that look.

You know why?

It’s because I’m awkward,

And you want this.

You want to feel these fingertips bend you like they bend fibers.

Make you my creation, infuse my vision with your visage.

Bath you in colors and watch your shine cast aglow over everything we see.

Yep. You want this awkward conversationalist,

Awesome cunning linguist, to digest your essence,

After discussing the essence of music from evenensance,

Or prince, or bjork, or some other musical genius.

Show me your back catalogue, and I’ll thumb through your selections,

we’ll make beautiful music together, as we play the night away.

But you cant be a shy.

Don’t run away like words fleeing lips.

Stick to me like ink to the page.

Get write with me, cause you haven’t felt tip like this before.

Haven’t felt the feather blade of a quill gently slicing insecurities.

Tasted your innocence on the lips of a lover.

Be nervous with me, and we can discover comfort in the fold of our elbows,

The soft fleshy parts we hide from the world

Will become our favorite grounds for play.

And later, when we are fully satisfied,

When the memories gel over your heart, preserving life;

I’ll read this poem,

And you will have that “moon pulling your tide” look in your eyes all over again,

Reminding you of how awkward you can be at times.