love poem: oops

It’s still cold and I’m still writing love notes.

I fantasize that
Instead of being here at my desk
With notes cluttering my space
Instead of being here at my desk
With no space to work or think
With a brain that expands outside of my body
With a destination unknown
Going mad in stillness

That I am in your movies. That
I am in my movies
In the perfect room with
The perfect lines to say:

I’d rather you were here; I’d rather
you were always in my way of something.
But I’m supposed to appear
strong as if nothing ever happened,
As if I could actually live on my own.