Love Poem #1

You make me confused.

When you held my hand for the first time,

I felt uncomfortable.

You rubbed the knuckle of my thumb

With the soft pad of your own,

As our fingers tangled together.

Your hands were all softness, but still firm.

Your fingers were long and bony,

But you never made them into cages.


You make me confused.

You touched your knees with mine,

But no matter how I remember it,

My legs were always angled towards you.

My thigh would pressed lightly against yours,

In a way that I was unused to,

Because it felt like that’s where it always should be.


You make me confused.

When you touched me, for the first time,

For the first time I didn’t want to scream.

Your touch was slow and deliberate,

There was a tenderness and impulsivity

That made me feel like I was the one reaching.

Your touch was a collaborative effort

And so far, you are the only boy who has asked my opinion.


Your touch didn’t remind of him.

Your touch didn’t contribute to my nightmares,

Of boys who think that just because I smile,

I want to use my mouth for other purposes.

Of hands turned into shackles that I can just barely evade.

Of boys who think that kindness is flirtation.

Your touch wasn’t like his.


You make confused.

Your touch didn’t fit the description.

I searched the sky for the dying embers of fireworks,

But all I could see were picture perfect constellations.

My heart never faltered, nor speed up,

In fact I’m pretty sure it didn’t realize you were there.

You didn’t burn my hand

and it didn’t feel like sparkling water afterwards either.

My stomach didn’t have any butterflies,

I think they are still in their cocoons.


But you make me confused,

Your touch didn’t fit the description,

But my mind keeps replaying this scene

Like a Harry Potter marathon on ABC.


You make me so confused,

I pass the days by transposing your smile on everyday objects,

Comparing the warmth of my jacket with yours,

And with each passing discovery of you in my head

I can’t help but feel more and more confused.

I should be afraid of boys after him.

Too quickly they can turn sunshine into sunburns,

But I feel like you wouldn’t ever turn a gust into a tornado.

I can never imagine you to be so destructive no matter how much,

My intelligence cries out to for me to.

But all my mind can fabricate are your arms wrapping around me.


You make me confused.

You don’t fit the description,

But neither do I.

This is confusing.

But maybe confusion just means

That we have to revisit and review?


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