I am not like you.

I am not too impatient to read on
And on and cast my heart into the
Sun to turn to a drop of caramel
That splashes into a tower when
It falls to the earth.

He is not like me.

He does not see the sound of
Aluminum foil crinkling as a
Radiating wave of butterflies.
He said to me, once, slowly,

"I think I might love you."

Spinning round and round, toppling
A tower of earwigs that wants
To be a new circus act with
Their parents approval.

She is not like he is.

She walks slowly backwards,
Upwards and denies it.

I stood beneath her feet, and
From fifty feet in the air,

She still denied it.