I do not find it so easy to believe
you have bones under your skin,
same as me,
when the light around your eyes is
as if you have been kissed by god.
(do you think about me?)
I do not think about you
except in the milliseconds when I do,
and I do not feel anything
if I do not think about you
too much
or at all
(do you think about me?)
the sound of your laugh,
or the texture of your hands,
or the halo in your eyes,
or the bodies you might like,
or my heartbeat at your name, or
how you might taste.
No, I don’t wonder at all.
(do you think about me?)