So sure, I think about it sometimes
But it doesn't matter to the world

It doesn't matter that I want to know
the thoughts you keep in that head
that you mount so well on your shoulders

It doesn't matter that I worry about how 
you're going to sleep tonight, whether 
or not there will be tears on your pillow

It doesn't matter that I want my words
to make you smile and shake your frame 
with small, joyful fits of laughter

It doesn't matter that I want to kiss
those lips as they try to pronounce
words from a Italian poem

It doesn't matter that I am curious
about how your body would feel 
under, above, or beside my own

It doesn't matter that I want to feel
every inch of who you are colliding
with every inch of who I am

It doesn't matter that I will never 
have you the way I would like

And I suppose it's a lovely thing
to feel as though my desires are
so insignificant

Because there is so much more to being alive than you