“Please. No more small talk, I want to know about the universe floating in your eyes”
“So I am just getting to know you.
Maybe it’s through an app. Maybe it’s through a friend. Maybe I just met you at the bar.
I think you’re beautiful.
We say hi. We greet. We say our names. We shake hands, or perhaps even hug if we want to take it a supposed step further.
Then the real conversation begins, supposedly.
I nod. You nod. Maybe, there is a giggle or two if we’re lucky.
But enough. It’s more than I can take.
No more small talk. I want to know about the universe floating in your eyes.
I don’t care about your line of work. I want to know how you can change the world.
I don’t care about how much you make. I want to know what you are without that type of energy.
I don’t care about how cool your new clothes are. I want to know what culture you were born to wear.
Please, don’t tell me you’re bored. Everybody is bored today.
Please, don’t tell me how busy you are. Everybody has the same privilege.
Please, don’t tell me how tired you are. Everybody likes to play dead.
We can even get personal, too close for comfort and even awkward. I don’t care.
Tell me about a time during your childhood which hurt deeply.
Tell me about a loved one you just lost.
Tell me about the hate you have in your soul.
Tell me who you want to kill.
Tell me the about the time you hurt others.
Tell me about how you cry alone in your room at night.
Tell me who hit you.
Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me and share the cancer.
I want it all, or nothing.
I want the stars. The comets. The planets. The galaxies. The mysteries.
I want you to drag me down to the dark hole.
I want you to lift me up to the burning ever.
I don’t even care if it burns my eyes.
Then maybe, just maybe, one day we can make love under the stars.”
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