Sometimes I see you doing just every day tasks. I’ll glance your way and feel the familiar tug to just draw your silhouette with my fingertips; trace them across the curve of your jawline, run my lips up the hairless runway of skin behind your right ear, cradle your head in my hands and rest my forehead against your sternum. Feel your heart beating against my eyelids while breathing through the strong drum of my own heartbeat.
You’re just a friend.
You’re just a friend but I feel electric and alive when you grab my hand. A heat rushes up from the root of me when you hype me up with your compliments.
“You could have any man you want.” But what if I wanted you?
“There’s not one thing about you that needs to be fixed.” And I want you to keep telling me this, I want you to whisper this into my ear as I fall asleep, remove my layers and say it again… and again… each layer falls away and your words warm my skin.
“Everyone learns better hands on…” then lay your hands on me. I won’t stop you.
But then the door closes behind you as you walk into your home. The silence is deafening.
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