i am consistently concerned
that you may be
too good for me

yea, two dollar teriyaki with no chopsticks
matinee movies, and
three hours-worth-of-gas
may not seem that sensational, but

your conversation
must be worth more

we lack familiarity
getting to know one another like stacking cards
alien conversations, yet
void of awkward pauses
we trade thoughts like pebbles

i want to pick you like a pomegranate
marvel at your insides
burst the little seeds of your intellect
i want to peel away your layers
set them aside as a vulgar display
of your soul bare and
exposed to me
i want you stripped naked in my living room
crawling on hand and knee
spilling your ambitions, your desire, your oldest memory
the color of you poetry, and
the sound of your love for me

i eagerly await the discoveries
of simple similarities, in hope that
we are more alike than we once thought