I kept looking for you when I didn’t know how important you’d be.
In these instances of momentary meaning, you meant nothing.
I was imprecise,
until I figured the memories I find you in.
I stopped to remind myself that you meant more than I led myself to believe, and
you meant nothing
until you tried to know me, later, when the timing was right.
You came through the workings of my mind when I was told to find you:
you were there, and you always were, as a glimmering interest.
I wanted to try
to retain you.
I was always late, and as you would ask me to define, it was my weakness.
But we found the time to keep us.
It was when I found my timing too early that I made the mistake,
And now we’re here, where we should have remained — the same — before we tried to reach for what neither of us was ready to obtain.
In our understanding, we were ready, but when we think of it now, we were only readying for what we were too early to chase.
I think to the meaning you had in my mind when I met you more than once.
I know the impact you meant was always set to grow.
And now we begin to find the timing we’ve always been too set to correct,
and when I’m too late to find us, we’ll become the story we were too young to know.
The outcome is undefined.
What we want is the only conduct that attempts to have us remain, to stay as the two of us beg to refine.
I keep looking for you,
I keep looking for you to stay close in mind,
and you remain, for now,
the person I’d best like to meet.
January 21, 2019