In moments of desperation I consider him
It's not at all that I want him
Not really anyway
And it's not that I don't
He's a fascinating shade I've never seen before, like honey
I think maybe it's that I'm completely irrational and I crave someone
Someone who would be enamored by all I have to say
And he is entirely enamored
That's only half the problem
You see
Without words I render myself useless
And now between moonlight and poetic banter I find myself tangled in yet another moment of desperation seemingly without end.