Close Enough

When our eyes met I could not look away.

I’m standing in gas and she might be the flame.

Something worth exploring?

But every time I stepped closer, she stepped back just enough to remind me

That she maybe protecting herself or this might be her game.

I tried not to take it personally.

Tried to understand

that cautious hearts

usually come from unfinished wars.

Still, there is a particular kind of ache

in wanting someone

who keeps their hand on the exit door.

Her smile

that made ordinary moments dangerous.

The beginning of what could be long conversations, gets cut off

Every time the door opens cause someone may hear or see.

The kind of eye contact

that convinces a man

he is not imagining this.

But when the moment arrived

for this to become something real,

fear always entered the room before I could.

I would be lying

if I said it did not exhaust me

trying to move mountains

that only existed between your mind and mine.

Because the hardest part

was wondering if the connection was there.

But this might be your game.

Yet somehow

we became two people

standing inches away from happiness,

both pretending not to notice it.

So I stopped.

Not because I stopped wanting you,

but because affection should never feel

like convincing someone

to choose you.

There will always be a small part of me

that wonders

what we could have been

if caution had not wanted you more than I did.