9/29/10

This is not a love poem
By Christina Rodriguez


I like you.


I like you and
in a perfect world,
I would just be able to say it.

I can't say that I wish I could get
to know you in new ways.

I can't say that I would love to
lay in your arms and see how your lips taste.
I can't find out your secrets.

In a perfect world,
I would be able to grab your
hand while walking down the street.
I would be able to say how cute you
are, be flirty and it wouldn't be a joke.

And in a perfect world,
I would be able to ask if there was a chance that
you would want to grab my hand, if
you would want to hold me in your arms, if
you would want to find my secrets on my lips.

In a perfect world,
I would be able to discover the truth behind
the softness of your skin and your heart.

This is not a perfect world.

I don't have the right to feel this way
to wonder.

I can't want you or want you to want me.

Because even though I have a love, there is
something about you that fills in the gaps he doesn't.

If I could blend you two into the nearly perfect man, I would.

Because my heart is selfish.

My curiosity is long and so are these nights,
where sometimes you stay on my mind till I
fall asleep because you were there to make me smile.

My heart is selfish and these nights are long.
And whenever he makes me unhappy,
you’re there...

Who am I kidding?
I can't confess.
I can't even write a poem to let you know how
I feel.

This is not a perfect world.


- - -
Christina Rodriguez wouldn't know a career choice if it hit her on the head with a wad of cash and health benefits. Living in Queens, New York in an attic with her mother as a recent college graduate, her days are filled with job hunting while her nights are filled with poetry and margaritas.