Six Degrees of Steparation

I’ll have you know,

today was going to be the day.

Maybe not with heavy quotes like all those

chick flicks and other assorted life-misrepresentations

but it would have been special enough for me.

(I know my passion sometimes scares you,

but I can be surprisingly extra ordinary

in all the ways that count)

-ing the occasional hallway run-ins,

you’re definitely the one I see the most

(Sadly, this is usually at the most inopportune times,

like when I reeeeally have to pee, or on the fifth or sixth

of my eleven steps to the shower, cap- and robe-clad)

It’s funny—

you claim you’re always in your room,

but as today made it a point to prove,

you’re never around when I want you to be

there for me, holding my hand, like you’ve been thrice before.

You listen as much as I talk:

that's never happened to me before.

And I swear you’re the only man in the world

who can make Kansas

sound as interesting as Kenya.

The line of communication from you to me used to be fuzzy

I don’t remember when I started really hearing you,

but I wanna make sure you get this message

me and no one would ever suspect a thing—

you sound so silly and formal in your texts.

We have to take ourselves out of our element

to ever be truly in it. I know it sounds corny, but

what the hell? Amidst deadlines and stress,

I could use a little corny in my life, so

I’ll just say it: you can make the whole world melt away

from it all, we fall

into this mold that makes us somehow more

but never lingers longer than the tingle of my hand

after you’ve let it go. I don’t know if that means we’re

perfect for one another or

we never will be.

Tonight, though, I was willing to take the chance

-s are, I’m making too much of those little moments,

but the way I see it, there has to be something in

the fact that you’re charming

when I least expect it

and even when I don’t exactly understand why,

I can’t exactly cross you off.

Tonight, I was willing to play the fool

if it meant I could find out

my door I went: one to the right, three forward, then to the left

to the left

Six steps separate me and you

and I, or so I thought.

My customary quiet knock: no answer.

With hope, a little harder, but no

such luck—you’re not there.

(It’s time to say I told you so.) I’ll bid my dream goodbye

as I’d have done you, holding just a little too tight,

granting the lightest kiss on the cheek

-y some might call me, and I must admit,

I’m not that regular a girl, and tonight,

if you had opened that door,

I’d have flipped the script on you.

But it seems like we’re just not ready for that, so

two to the right, three forward, and one to the left

to my own devices, I remember what that ambiguous “They”

always says:

There are six degrees of separation between every person in the world.

Maybe there will never be any less

between you and me.