The thing about me...

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"The thing about me is
that I'll always have a crush on everyone.
I'll always undress you with my eyes.
When you are talking to me,
I have my hands slipping
your white Hanes tee-shirt
that no one sees but you always wear,
out from your arms and up over your head.
Ask me how things are
and I am fumbling with your button-fly.

The thing about me is
that I think too much, or not enough.
Too much when I am rearranging
my last name with yours,
not enough when I find my hands
memorizing crevices of your skull,
clumps of thick hair sliding through my fingers -
even though I told myself
you're not my type - you're too conceited,
too Italian, too nice,
not old enough, not young enough.
Whoops.

The thing about me is
that I'll always have a crush on everyone.
Not just you.
By you, I don't mean this reader,
I mean every reader.
Every non-reader.

I will have a crush on the man at the bus stop
who has folded a newspaper into a rectangle
and stuffed it in arms folded across his chest.
He'd hold me like that.
The boy who runs down the street
wearing his high school warm up suit,
I'll have a crush on him
because I'd be That Love
and he'd never forget me.
I'll dream about the fifty-year-old
who's slumped over the bar
every Sunday night at O'Mally's.
I'll wonder why he's not home with his wife
and almost grown up kids.
And then I'll wonder why he's not home with me.

You better stop reading this,
because at this point you've been naked by my eyes
for well over two minutes.
That's plenty of time to imagine wonderful things.
Grab your belt and boxers and don't forget
the sock that slipped underneath the table in the corner.
My mind is too complicated a thing for you.
Don't fall in love with me,
because I won't fall in love with you."


(by Jennifer Goike)