For Emily

a poem about confessing to a love, written when I was younger but now strangely relevant

I needed to tell you everything
Every
         Last
                   Bit.
Fortunately, you were always gracious
To all my words, no matter how trifle,
No matter how inconsequential

(I forgot how you looked at night)

I gave you the run-down,
The run-away,
The collapse into a thousand pieces.
Each
         Piece
                   Fell
Into sequins of embarrassment

(You really do look quite lovely at night)

In return, you gave me your smile.
Your beauty,
Your irresolute charm,
Perhaps only a moment of weakness on my part

(You’ve got this look at night, like some hidden rose)

What’s on your mind?
You reflect on my rather verbose confessions,
I bite my cheek to keep from cracking.
I
         Knew
                   It.

If it doesn’t matter now, then it never,
Ever
         Ever
                   EVER.
Did.

(But your eyes are really the best part)