i seem to have lost some immediacy, some urgency. your hunger for me seems to have satiated a little. is it because of my intoxicated words left carelessly about? is it because you can sense that i want this more than you?

you haven't left. you're still here. you're simply here less.

it used to be days and days at a time. now it's less.

but simple tendernesses and sweetness still take me by surprise. the dandelion... the candles before dark because you remembered what i said...

but then you go, and this time i'm not invited. and i wonder why.

and i'm left to wonder alone.

and i'm wondering if this is good. because this may just make you less important to me, and this may just even the field.

and i've taken down the words you saw, the words i forgot about, the words about her, the words about love. i've taken them down so you are less reminded.

i want you to run to me. i want you to devour me. i want to hear the words "i couldn't stop thinking of you". i want you to trust me with more of your secrets. i want to continue planning your mother's birthday with you. i want that train ride to chicago with you. but mostly, i want you to want those too.