To you, There are things I shouldn’t wonder about when I don’t know you. What your voice sounds like when you aren’t being careful, how close you stand when you want someone to understand you. Whether you look away when you’re trying not to smile? What your hands do when you want something? Especially that last one . Because there is something almost indecent about wanting to know such exhaustive details of someone who has never really touched you, or so to say. I don’t mean desire in the simple sense. No, no… It is stranger than that. It is the desire to know whether the tension I feel in your absence would survive your presence. Whether the air would change if you walked into the room. Whether I would suddenly understand why my mind has kept making room for you. Sometimes I imagine meeting you and nothing happening. And sometimes… God. *hopelessly sighs Sometimes I imagine the opposite. That first look lasting a second too long. That tiny hesitation before either of ...
Poetry, rants, coffee, slow afternoons, sometimes art and, everything in between.