can we be friends?
they talk about attraction
like you're just a pile of metal filings
and when someone's a magnet,
you can't get away
they seem to think the fizzy feeling when we touch
will make my limbs do things I didn't mean
or make me scream and run away
or make me say something, confess
they act like it's inevitable
but haven't they ever smelled delicious baking
with no desire, no thought even, of eating cakes
because that warm scent is enough?
haven't they ever admired the strong, curving limbs of a tree
without planning to climb it?
haven't they ever sunk into a daydream
knowing they'll wake up
but paying no mind because now, right now,
this daydream is delicious?
have they never slipped into the moment like a hot tub,
where the water on your skin becomes
everything there
ever was
or will
be?
as if friendship were "less than"
and you're "just" friends
but what if friendship is all I want?