We both turned off our read receipts (long ago?).
Don't want people to know when we
see or maybe
it's the choice
it's the control of perception
a light push back
arm's length reception.

You said you didn't think I understood you
and so it scared you when you found out I liked you.
If there's something I can understand,
oh god
it's that.

I don't want to push you-
or rather pull you
too close too vulnerable too soon,
know that.

I've been waiting a year to kiss you
and the waiting was so sweet,
wrapping wool around my finger,
sincere.
I will wait with you,
and for you,
my dear.

I'm not sure if I care that it's cliche.
Of course, these words have been said,
even crooned,
but not felt to their fullest extent.

Okay then, so I don't.
Because I've never felt this way
So right
My mouth holding the "so" like a velvet quail egg.
So natural and no sick
pit
throat closing
mind roaming
kisses like I used to have.

Nothing has ever felt so right.

I wish I could tell my old self
my young hunger
eating up a man's desire for me-
that it's a sour substitute for my own.
Belly full of unease,
maybe self-hatred
but not that pointed
a denial of my own needs.

I wanted to be sure
and I never was
but now I don't think we have to be.

I think we both feel the possibility of ephemerality
but I can't let this pass
without an attempt
trying to grasp
your shirt collar
to hold your sweet face
and trying to fight against the innate,
terribly strong urge to kiss you.

This is just as new to me as it is
to you.
I don't mind wringing it out to dry
in slow motion.
Unfolding with you slowly
softly floating
seeing where our hands land.

That sounds just right.
I love that.