The things I never tell you:

Sometimes there are so many things I want to tell you

ready to spill from my mouth, a deluge

of words and thoughts and feelings reserved normally

for late-night musings or those moments of weakness (so says i)

when the tears freely flow and stain my pillows

And I want to open those flood gates – because that is surely

what they are, thick and strong and holding back

a torrent so powerful it keeps me pulled under so often –

and lay bare myself before you, naked emotionally

utterly at the mercy of your gaze, of your touch, of your words

But no, but no, but no, but no, but no!

Such desires are dangerous – oh the intimacy in the depths of such revelations

To trust you so implicitly is too much like saying: I love you, I love you, I love you

which, after all of these years is like putting a lit match to dry tinder

So never too much – never too much and only just enough

to keep you close, to keep you engaged, to keep myself from coming undone

So many things I feel compelled to tell you, but never is there the time –

a sign from the Fates – it can never be, it should never be – it is too close

Only measured breaths, checked words, carefully played emotions

like a well-orchestrated waltz or a guarded match of chess

but I’ve never been schooled in either, so I fumble with the rules

I advance, I retreat, advance, retreat, until I am actually only running in one place

going nowhere…

Sometimes there are so many things I need to tell you, but it is too

dangerous (you’ll agree) and I can never find the courage.