the first and the last.

i am not the first
to wish that you were here enjoying life (preferably, with me)
to treasure your smile like it’s the most precious thing i’ve ever seen
and how if your eyes fail to smile, too, something is terribly wrong
to imagine an alternate life where you and i
existed together in more ways than one

i am sorry.
i suppose that you do not understand that i do not wish
to taste your unchapped lips
to touch every part of you
to live in an alternate life where you and i
were intimate together in more ways than one

you are lovable in more ways than one
but i may be the first to say
that i
i only wish to witness your smile
unadulterated
i only crave the safe reassurance
that you so freely exude
is it wrong, though
to want you to hold me like nothing is terribly wrong
every once in a blue moon, only if you feel like it

i am not the first to crave
your touch, your gaze
but if only you would treat me as if
i were the furthest thing from invisible
may i be the first to say
“i would be content.”

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