I don’t know what to make of it

When he never turns back once he leaves

Sometimes, I think, he notices too much of the obvious

I wonder if he can ever see the subtleties

Like the saved pictures of poems on my phone

And how sometimes they break my heart

I wonder if he notices

That I like odd numbers more than even numbers

And somehow prime numbers are my favorite

Does he notice that I fall in love more with movie trailers

Than the movie itself

Does he see a pattern in all this?

Does he wonder what it means?

Because sometimes I wonder

Whether I want to be loved as a whole

Or for beautiful little subtleties.