what's your #

It was nice to see your sleepy eyed smile
for a little while.
Nice to taste your tongue and thoughts,
to feel your heart and heat,
and it'd be nice to know it some more,
but you tell me it can't be.
Our focus isn't the same vision you say.
You don't have the time or energy
for the kind of love I want,
and you don't know when you ever will.
That sounds like a practical equation
for my impractical ideas of love.
I know you're right,
but I wish you were wrong
and I wish that wasn't a wish.
The business you planted the seeds to
is wrapped around you
and I can see the discomfort of that,
but the growth too.
I feel your longing there,
but you can't let it happen further than that.
You must stay dedicated to your cause,
free of complications or other pressures in your life.
You must not bother yourself with emotional dust.
I see a heavy look framed by furrowing lines,
I see the hours of the day deepening them.
I feel the reach for romance and then a turned back.
I tell you before I walk out of your house
that when you're ready to love, I'm sure it's going to be beautiful.
Your smile is loosely held together
but I kiss that away and forget this conversation
just for a moment.
You say there's a reason why we met,
and I say goodbye.