Writing to you
The intentional email trade
Trying to correlate the morning and night shifts
The written word in dialogue
With the constant surprise
Of what I might type you next
Or the anticipation building
As I wait for a response
You don’t know this
(or perhaps you might)
But I’m learning patience from you
You allow freedom minus social pressure
My own mind exploring
In the midst of absorbing yours
My goal is to bust it open
You hardly notice me chipping away
I want to hold your mind softly
In the palm of my hands
And just stare at it
Stare so long that it makes the both of us
I want to watch the blood
Rush to every corner
When you process a new thought
I want to know what happens
When two ideas collide
I want to see where the pain lives
Hidden delicately in your mind
Safely surrounded by years of savored memories
What keeps you thinking
When your mouth is quiet
When you rub your temples
That spot directly above your shaded glasses
How does it affect the way you see
I’m staring while listening
All I want is inside
Not to change your mind
Not a thing do I want to change
Just let me borrow it for a little while
I have discovered an itch in me
A sapiosexual feeling
An interruption in my cosmos
So I ask
Don’t substitute one thought
Story or emotion
Let me sink my teeth into your core
That’s just it
What am I looking for?
What will cure this desurn*?
*Asterisk word(s) are found on the glossary page.
hey heather, i liked your poem. i’m still processing it, contemplating how you’re thinking through things.
i was thinking the other day about our Busch Gardens trips. i work at Volkswagon, so naturally i was thinking about the Verbolten ride. that was a lot of fun. missing those times.
i hope you are doing well and still enjoying your job more everyday. tell donnie and everyone i said hey.
That was the best trip I have ever taken. Such a fun day. I’m glad you are still processing my poem. I wrote it on my lunch break the other day.