TFLN POEM - Romance, Risk

Hey.

Here's this week's www.textsfromlastnight.com poem.
Thinking a lot about creative risk in general this week, and realizing why I don't extend it to dating. And I should. I really should. Soon.

Here we go!

(616):

He's so vague sometimes. Like dude, we've been friends for 3 years. I don't need you to be vague, I need you to be inside of my vagina.

I’m just waiting.

Maybe Scott will pull me into a quiet room,

Fidget with his glasses, give one of his shy, rare smiles,

And just fucking say it.

What’s he scared of?  Being happy?

Seems like it.

He gives out these half measures and hints and clues

And dances his way around the subject

Like he’s defusing a bomb.  Romance isn’t about

Removing collateral damage; stemming risk.

We’re gonna be altered, permanently. That’s

What makes it so intoxicating. Change.

We surrender to an altar of shared experience.

It’s violent. It’s a tempered beauty.

I want that.

I know he wants that too.

And, I’m just so – I’m so goddamn horny.

Way he talks, like a low rumble of dry leaves.

Way he strums guitar and weaves these sad, haunting stories

Way he holds his heart way a baby holds a spoon,

Hesistant, and then proudly and then continuing against all reason,

Getting it dirty but smiling, as if he were the

Warden of a secret.

I want to jump him, knock the fear out of his bones,

And say, here,

Here is where touch

and tremble

and trust are waiting.