I Worry About You

you seem so fragile sometimes
the way you walk is childish
and i feel bad about wanting to fuck you
while we’re doing something sweet
together, like picking out fingerling
potatoes
at the outdoor farmer’s market
and walking up the steep hill to a
little spot you like to sit and be quiet
and we were quiet there
until a little dog walked past
and you said “you are so good, yeah”
it felt like a different city
but all i could think about
was how i had to leave to go to dinner
marking the first time in three straight
days
that we would be awake and not together
and right then you took my hand
saying “let’s look over the ledge”
so we walked to it and felt
disappointed when we got there
because the drop off wasn’t nearly as
severe as it seemed
but you walked to the edge anyway
and stood silently
while i looked at the grass,
how soft it must have been,
and for the first time since having met
i knew you were much more troubled
than you seemed