Conceiving the unspoken

 Here's love letter

Composed of the words I want to say to you every time I see you:

I love you

I'm in love with you

I have been in love with you since April

I'd like to push you against a wall and do some nasty things involving your neck and my tongue that would literally take the air from your lungs

When you wear your hair half up and half down I feel like the earth has been swept out from under me

I love when you show me your art; it's like seeing your insides and I'd like to eat you out until your calves cramp and I want to trace the lines of your body and I want you to look at me with your blue artist's eyes and see my soul and find it wanting and decide to love me anyway. 

I'm collecting little pieces of you: you love chocolate ice cream, you've been doing yoga for six years, your family pet is a pitt-bull named Sparkle, you and your roommates went apple picking last weekend, your favorite thing to cook is sesame noodles 

At the end of the day I sweep all the course books off of my desk and marvel at the empty expanse

I take this collection of favors and small loves and I lay it out on my desk like I would lay you down

And I run my hands over the familiar figures and pretend it brings my closer to your lips

I sound 50% creepier in this poem then I do in my head and the problem is I'm so overflowing with love and without a place to put it

And last week when maintenance came to unclog my shower drain they brought not one but two plungers in spite of not even working on a single toilet and 

I do not want my feelings to make a mess on the floor and I can't imagine where I left the metaphorical plunger