Getting to know you.

I get to know him, little by little

I sit with a chisel in my hand, chipping away at years of guard

I dance around questions I want to ask

I hesitate each time I want to touch

I am afriad if it is too much, if I leave cracks if I hit too hard

So, I sit patiently and chisel at his guard

I wish we were friends, that I could have just known

I wish I didnt have to flirt with the lines drawn in sand, the absolute unknown

I wish I didn’t have to retreat, reappear, reassure and resume my chisel

I wish I knew him from before

When will I accumulate enough yesterdays to comfortably fall back on?

Till then, do we dance to the tune of getting to know each other?

Can we make it a little easier?

Can you come a little closer, speak a little louder, stay a bit longer?