Drifting...

i thought i saw the one.

you know, that one -
who draws from you
breaths you have yet to even think of.
the one who arouses your sensibilities
piques your curiosities
incites your passions
and just might turn you on.

i got excited
flustered
feverish,
ready to jump headlong
in the abyss until i took note...

same style, hair, shape;
that hint of 'sun kissed' fused with 'mid-night;'

familiar like broken records,
scratched cds
and mixtapes made off the radio
born late at night
and delivered discretely
into backpacks at lunchtime
by someone else
because you were too shy
to do it yourself

familiar like an unfinished piece...

and a smile like sunset:
not portending the day,
but rather inviting you into the night.

She even looked at me
playfully
with the same teasing stare
that called me to your aura
in the first damn place.

(i wish you weren't so beautiful.)

how dare she be
as perfect as you?

i hated her before i knew her
for making me cry false, saltly tears of
sorrowful morning
after mourning.
hated her before she could utter redeeming noun,
name,
or verb
about how she was
being,
different,
a love like none other.
before she could blow like
storm winds
against my unstable center.

before she could leave love notes
on half shower-fogged mirrors
tuesdays
while i sleep in.

before she could kiss me
every night
and wish me sweet dreams,
which she vows to see me in.

before our first anniversary.

before our last.

before she could
set me up
to let me down

because she's not you.

i left her at hello,
well,
less than,
a fleeting half-smile
passing in a crowd
by that coffee place
on my way home that day;
she could be the one,
but who may ever know.

i called to tell you
like i used to

and listen to your stories.
to hear your laugh;
to quell your anger,
calm your nerves,

to love you
like i
thought
i knew how.

but your voicemail was full.

i'll try again tomorrow.