Just a draft
05/21/2013 12:53 a.m.
I worry that my words
convey too much,
and I worry that my worry
keeps them far from being enough.

And why do I think things through
and think things through
and think maybe you know
and do the same.
Or maybe I know you think
and do the same.

I look back and see
you living and loving on my level,
in my depths,
and we're so few and far between down here.
How could I just let you drift west?