She is panic attacked by the vertigo of wanting you,
the sweet sad darkness of desire,
the magnetic north of you.
Dream-stated by watching you dance
she anticipates more than fate could give,
loses sleep and weight,
creates unconsoling poetry from stolen glances,
waits for chances that will never come.
She is haunted by the knowledge
of all she will never know,
wishes the impossibility of you
were not so complete.
Wants to learn
how to fall.
The Body Knows for Poetry Thursday.