Maybe A Poem

Maybe this is a poem,

And maybe it's just words of love

Spilling endlessly from my thoughts,

Smudging into one on the page.

You can dance in four-inch heels,

Acting like it doesn't break your ankles.

You can take all the comments,

And walk away like nothing was said. 

Your nose is always glued in a book,

And I wonder how you don't drown

In all those words crashing right off the pages,

How do they not suffocate you in your dreams?

The only pair of earrings you own

I'd turn into the greatest fashion if I could. 

You wear them like you didn't yesterday,

And like you never will again.  

I know that I'm not an artist,

But I'd be one for you. 

I would paint all the stars in the sky

Until they disappear. 

I'll memorize every little crease in your hands,

Every single freckle on your face, 

That look in your eyes when you know you're right,

Just like the lines in every single play. 

It's improbable you see the way I feel,

Though I've heard I make it obvious,

But I'm the only one who's ever liked you,

And I love all your imperfections. 

I think that I could die,

If I just let you go. 

No, I really think I would,

Because we even each other out

Like the sun and the moon,

Like the earth and the stars,

Like the light and the dark, 

Like all the poems in my heart.

And if this is a poem,

And not just the sparks I feel for you,

Maybe you could read it,

And yearn for me too.