If you let me

If you let me,

I’ll describe the sounds that my body makes as I sit here waiting, turning my head every time I hear what could possibly be the door open, closing my eyes to hold onto the suspense, refusing to open Shroedinger’s box until I absolutely have to, this cat is both dead AND alive.

I don’t want to be nervous.

I want to be the uncracked mystery you’ve come to expect, want my limbs to secrete ease into this tiny room without trying. But the truth is I’ve been tying up the strings between us, so they won’t come undone, hoping you don’t notice that the way I lean against this wall is rehearsed, like my every heartbeat isn’t.

I’m not feigning to be someone that I'm not, no. I’m just trying to rearrange the pieces of myself into a shape that might be pleasing to your eyes, a three dimensional illusion and a solution to the puzzle at the same time. Just as I uncover these words and deliver them in a way that might be aesthetic to your ears.

I’m looking to leave an impression, like the valleys my guitar strings have carved onto my fingertips, staying long after the song is over. An impression.

Like that lasting expression on your face that says I like what I perceive and I want to know more.

More. Because I would let you put together this jigsaw puzzle if you desired, would even whisper hints against your neck, until you conspired to fit it all together, no matter what.

I’m waiting. But there’s no picture on the box to aid in your quest, nothing but me asking you not to rest until you fit it all together. But please don’t count the missing pieces, let’s fill them up together, whether or not we know how. Let’s pretend that we do and fill them up with the sound of our voices mingling in a conversation that bounds and bounces through the uncertainty in your eyes and the hope in mine, we will redefine

awkward silences.

And if, instead, my presence fills up the space in your mouth with nonsense words, if your mind becomes a wasteland of stutters, I will hang around until I can comprehend what you mean when you don’t utter a single word.

I will set up camp under your lips and catch the first word that falls, just as you have caught this poem.

If you let me.