His shirt held mascara stains on the shoulders.
It was permanently wrinkled on the shoulder blades.
Permanently faded from the times he tried to wash the tears
from the soft cotton but he could still hear her crying.
She wanted to love him.

His pants held dirt in the stitches.
They smelled like rusted nails and musty air.
Frayed and torn at the cuffs from running too fast.
Tripping over his own feet and her beautiful stare.
He loved her.

His hands held her wrists.
His eyes searched for desire in her fingertips.
She pulled away.
Embarrassed that the only thing she was able to
grab a hold of was the hope that she was only afraid.
She wanted to love him.

Her shirt held his embrace.
Permanently draped in adventure and white lace.
It was permanently stained with the smile on his face as he
wrapped his love around the woman he adored.
She was all he could ever ask for.
He loved her.

Trembling with confusion, she wanted to escape.
Her knees shook with envy and pain.
Wondering why she couldn’t love him the same.
Her eyes locked shut and instead of holding on,
she ran away.
She wanted to love him.