I want to know you
whether you’re afraid of sharks or spiders
death or love.

I want to know if it’s grammatical errors
that drive you crazy
or the people correcting them,
if you’re more comfortable
shaking sand out of your hair
or snow,
if you prefer coffee or tea,
bars or board game nights.

I want to know which of your friends
you’ve cried in front of,
if you’ve ever laughed chocolate milk
out of your nose,
or kissed someone you didn’t love.

I want to know you,
the you beneath the layer
of small talk
always kept
shined and smudgeless. 

I’m just hoping one day
you’ll invite me
in.