Poem: The goal

I love you so much
that you can go—

I’m so free
that bordering you
in my arms
doesn’t even make sense

I’m so now
that fucking you later
is a peculiar puzzle
with no sensible pieces

I’m so here
that lusting for there
is a laughable matter
one I can’t even fathom

I’m so found
there’s no signal to flash
no corner to round
no flare to pursue

I’m so me
that there’s finally
to be you