I Would Love You, But Not Now (A Poem)

 This poem is far from being perfect, but it's what came out now, which is significant only in that I've been trying to write this poem since yesterday early afternoon.  I also wanted to post it because it matches my Nobody's Rambler post for this week, which is about some past relationships of mine and what I've learned from them.  A week or two ago I was talking about Christina Hendrix (who is undeniably the most beautiful woman alive), and I jokingly said I wouldn't want to date her because she's such an amazing woman, I'm not good enough for her.  That's the idea behind that prose post and this poem.  I'm also a little in love with someone right now, someone who probably doesn't love me back (I talk about it in Nobody's Rambler), but my love is such that I wouldn't want to blindly rush into a relationship.  All love takes a certain wisdom from each partner for it to thrive and grow, and this person is so special to me that I'd only want to be with them if I could be with them the right way, in a way where I can be open with her and she could be open with me (I should mention I started this summer off by reading Love in the Time of Cholera).  That's not to say things would be perfect and would go on forever, but whatever lasted would be more satisfying and memorable then if I didn't understand even the basics of love, those tiny nuances that people might take for granted sometimes.

So anyways, that was all my inspiration for this.  Unfortunately my inspiration wasn't exactly the most...well, poetic, so I'll need to edit and revise this pretty heavily sometime.  Plus I've been in a down mood all day, and while writing this poem actually cheered me up, I'll admit the blues I've been feeling distracted me a little.  But hopefully you enjoy reading it anyways!  I'm gonna be pretty busy this next week, so who knows how good of a poem I'll have the next time I'm here, but it'll be something at least.  Well, until next time blog-readers!
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I Would Love You, But Not Now
by Matthew Stalbaum

I would love you, but not now,
not as we are, so young, so sure
to mistake the desire for a kiss as true
love, a moment's glance as eternity,
the friction of touch as electricity,
and love means only pretty words,
cliches and roses,
and you means all I want you to be.

I would love you in some time yet,
as you are, beyond utterance or comprehension,
when there is no mistake of what we want (how
I want you, how you want me) and what we can't
have (all those tiny pieces smaller than sight,
yet guide our motions like stars): all of you,
all of me, shadows and the secret of a gleam,
time enough for the past and future - none of this
but we are not lost, and beyond
immortality and perfection

there is the beauty of a smile, treasuring a laugh,
the simplest declarations that can't come out right,
but how they are said, that they are said
accounts for lost words, and as I open myself
as far as I can, as you do to, we find all we can't see,
marveling in the wonders of darkness and secrets,
following the little light we have, of a smile
and the smallest I Love You, said so often,
somehow says it all.