and you were nice
is it usually different?
i don’t know a lot about romance
why’d you stop being nice?
did you learn something about me?
how much is anyone supposed to want to know?
when i think of you
i lose myself
in the prism i’ve collected of your mind
i can hardly see
or i panic
i don’t know
"i still write love poems" is an example of a poem by Harry Ricciardi. Harry builds boats in Vineyard Haven. For a while he's tried to keep a record of a project he's been working on — if you’re curious: boatshopnancy.tumblr.com.
