i don’t know why
the chemicals that knit
to form the fragrance of that
first blushing mango
take me home in an instant

or why i feel more at ease
in the gentle rocking
of a commuter train
than i do in my home

i don’t know why
the line of your jaw
and the smoke in your eyes
make me knit letters into words

or why i would hang my heart
like a lantern before my doorway
to be bruised by the elements
beating louder there than in my chest

i don’t know why
i hate praise, but crave it
fear love, but need it
need touch, but reject it

or why i can shine
incandescent
yet still view myself
a moth

i don’t know why
i like what i like
want who i want
love who i love

i just know i do
and that is enough