Attempt

This is,
attempt number four sixty-three,
to tell you just how much,
I,
love--if I complete the statement,
it'll be real.
So far I've ripped up years of paper
and now am left with this
tiny slip.

My small joy,
my sweet oddity,  
I added together
your phone number
and the even sum,
reminded me of your smile.
Cracked lip, chipped tooth,
heavy tongue;
charming.
There is a soft hint
of dimples--

This tiny piece of paper,
on which, I scribble,
is powerful like a papercut,
like your first Hello.
Like your first blowjob.
I wasn't there,
but I can imagine the look
on your face.