Have I mentioned that I love you?

Have I mentioned that I love you?/ No, not like that—not in the capital l, / ohmygodineedtobewithyou kind of way./ Not in the way of/ naked bodies desperate to reach into one another/ and rip out the very stuff of pleasure./ Not like that (though it might be nice)./ My love isn't—couldn't be—chaste./ I'm not that kind of girl—I fuck my friends/ and friend my fucks./ This love is slower, cautious, more grounded—/ it scares me./ It stole its way inside without a word;/ it nuzzles the inside of my chest/ worrying outward with an unbearable pressure./ One day it will break free in blood and tears—/ and shared experience/ (positive or not)./ It is the love of long nights together / in thought, if not in body./ It is the love of shared ideas—shared fears—/ and too much similarity to our pasts./ It is the love of friends—at least.