He’s given me so many small versions of himself

Some hint here and there about his intentions with me

Nothing I could reach for

Some joke about marriage being like the Truman show

But he never responds directly to my questions

Just let’s me brew and obsess

Running in circles

Feeling insane

But I imagine when or if he kissed me

All those versions of him would collapse upon themselves

And I would collapse too

And finally collapse into each other