The Nearness

I taught myself not to yearn for others love,

How to give just enough so that they would be stuffed.

How to speak with little mystery, fooling everyone else,

So that when they were gone, I’d set myself back on the shelf.

I danced wildly with hypothesis and theory,

Poured on romance and appearance, with nary a query,

Giving all of my poetry, to the thought of possession,

So that when they were gone, I’d take up a new obsession.

But you, oh you! So sure and so simple.

With the slight of hand, your palm graced my dimple.

I faltered… stumbled… fell to my knees in submission,

You captured me, rendered me, without my permission.

And what of love?! What of my previous condition?!

I believe! I believe! It was never a decision.