there was a moment so fragile
so unentertained
that it was as though I was watching it -
watching you - from outside my body

boise, idaho
a humid apartment building,
november.
you sat there,
molded into the love seat,
eyes ablaze,
face giddy,
a girl cradled in your lap.

and i didn't see you
but i saw so much of you.

the room was screaming
with unfamiliar energy;
with fumes of smoke and apple pie,
as i sat,
pressed against the wall
& my first ever drink
clasped into my sweaty, shaky hand.

I stared for just a minute,
i watched you,
observed you,
as your hand swept
over the crevice of her arm,
your face, eager for warmth in her neck.

you looked like art,
like a structure,
filled with clay,
and sharpened with porcelain
on the edges.

you looked like art,
with golden cheeks,
contrasted against dark, doe-eyes
and i didn't want to stop looking,
i didn't.


july
7 months later
the roar of an engine
rumbles beneath my back.
i'm high,
& im watching the glow and flicker
of descending street lights
and i feel like i'm floating on a euphoric daydream that refuses to end.

that night,
there was a moment so fragile,
so un-entertained
when i looked into your eyes,
staring with secret intimacy,
that i swore i knew you.
not the simple parts of you,
but the important ones.

underneath you.
your body spoke a language into mine,
and we talked with our hands
with our tender gasps,
and constricted moans.
and tentatively,
while the fan rattled
and the bed shifted,
i shut my eyes and smiled.
because i knew that this was a moment,
i'd only get to appreciate
a few times in my life.
& it felt special,
knowing one could be with you.