Air

You plan long-term
but live in manageable chunks.
Climb, focus, hyper-focus.
Arrive.

I dream long-term
but endure eons in a second.
Juggle, juggle, juggle.
Leap.

I live breathless.
Wanting this, yesterday.
Bleeding onto the keyboard
words that win me you.

You are summer—alive, prime, lush.
My body feels like summer.
And sometimes, my words.

The rest, I’m afraid, awash eternally in spring.
Always in the process of.
Wanting, but not quite getting.
Waiting, but… not… quite… there.
Somewhere.
Maybe, getting there.

I covet that--your road, your vision. I want it for my own.
But that would make me you.
If I were you, I wouldn’t want you.
I’d want me.
I’d want someone who loves me breathless.