I Like You More Than Words

If head over heels
means
I have stopped trying to run
and have put my head
and heart
together,
And for the first time in so long
Do not feel my habitual instinct to flee
when someone gets too close,
Then go ahead and quote that Iggy song
Some blow jobs for Louis Vuitton,
because I am head over heels
to be this close
and not run.

You are too close,
And never close enough.
I wish your laugh
was my ringtone,
and my phone would never stop blowing up.
I am the girl who claims she hates when people call sex “making love”
Until you.
The first time you kissed me.
The first time you held me.
The first time you told me something
you didn’t tell most girls
who you kissed,
fucked,
touched in bed.
Those times,
I made love.
And you are the first person
to utter those words
in that pattern
And I do not squirm.
I could make love to you
at every show,
With every joke.
I could make love to you when you stop performing
and are honest.
Head resting perfectly on my chest.
You say my smile
is your favorite.
And to think,
I grew up refusing to ever show my teeth in photos.
You have only seen my honest smile
the kind that causes my nose to wrinkle,
teeth on display,
because shit,
You make me smile
and laugh
in a way I have never known.
In a way that is so full of glitter
and sparkly shit you’d buy for an elementary school art project,
Disco ball,
Electricity from cheek to cheek
when you sing things like
The Way You Look Tonight
and ruin the lyrics
on purpose.

This has stopped being a poem.
I am just writing memories.
I’m trying to turn this glow you have given me into
an art,
Poetry.

You just might be the only thing I like
more than poetry.

I like you
more
than I like writing poetry.