Photo by Emily Morter on Unsplash
Your question bounces around my brain 12, 24 hours later.
It echoes, replays, repeats, your voice in my brain.
What do I want?
Are we tiptoeing around the same unspoken truth
or am I imagining the sound of longing in your voice as you plead
Whatever it is, I'll give it to you.
Just tell me, what do you want?
All I can manage is an assumption that I don't understand,
a question of what you're really asking me
because I can never answer what you asked,
short and vague enough for my first thought to be
you.
It has always been you.
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