Kid Crush

The seven o’clock lull

and the background conversation 

line the walls of the Thanksgiving House.

One 

Two 

Three

I hear the clock hum

bookshelves, pen marks, planets that point to you.

Trace me or something more,

know me like I know myself.

Four

It feels right to see you now,

as if I have seen you before 

as if your breath has filled my lungs

as if you are the space and time between us, 

growing small before our eyes.

Five 

Yes; it feels right to know you now

and to know you more would be heaven itself.

Could you count the stars on my face or compare me to the sky?

Six

Call me yours and nothing more,

I want to touch like a cloud wants to rain.

Let me 

fall, 

fall, 

fall.

Seven 

Thanksgiving fades,

the clock hum fills my ears 

and the thought of you, the possibility,

consumes me.