Jun 2010
You were maybe a foot away from me, sitting to the side, accomplishing your task with silent efficiency. A chord rung out, emanating from your body; it drew me near. I stopped to watch, stopped to see, a man of beauty, a man of strength. No cries of anguish or pain, no cries of fear of structure or fear of imminent danger. Hope lifted in my heart; you had a different vibe than all the other guys. You could make me happy. You could keep me safe. You would laugh at my jokes and guard my wounded self-esteem.
And then four feet away, not that much later. We met for the first time, for real. A sudden recognition, an exchanging of names, a few witty (or ditzy?) comments. Four feet again, near the forbidden. Our eyes didn't meet, for you were distracted, lost in your own world of music blasting from your headphones. I traced the line defining your back with a marker that writes on air.
Seasons slipped by. You stood just six feet away in your savvy black bowtie. Fake, yes, but still considered formal. A cheap imitation at the very least, but to one of us, it's all the same. Closer yet, a foot again, only a seat away. I drew my fingers across the top of your surprisingly smooth hands, tracing your veins, the veins that carried your blood, faintly pulsing, speaking softly of gentle carresses and sweet nothings.
Eight feet away, across the classroom, I caught your eye. Mountains moved and dams ruptured as cool, silky waters quenched insatiable fires. There were things I noticed for the first time: the kindness that pampered children underlaying each tone, the strength that upheld the weak resonating from your arms, and the love that would not hesistate to sacrifice sparkling in your eyes. Suddenly, desire gripped me like a reawakened flame, heat up to par with the heat that causes your veins to bulge. I realized that those veins now contained my life's blood. My lifeblood.
I watched you run alongside me, ten feet away, racket up at guard. I've never told you that when you serve, you look exactly like the man on the back of the team shirt; indescribable yet immortalized for an eternity. Eternity, a neverending length of time, the amount of time I want to spend with you and you alone.
Twenty feet away, even further but still closer than ever. Twenty feet, the span of a hallway perhaps, from one set of locked doors to another heavy set. Still close, still close, for no matter the distance, we can bridge this gap. With what? With love. My love for you, and yours for me.
The lines before you sing softly, over and over, three resounding syllables: I love you.
And then four feet away, not that much later. We met for the first time, for real. A sudden recognition, an exchanging of names, a few witty (or ditzy?) comments. Four feet again, near the forbidden. Our eyes didn't meet, for you were distracted, lost in your own world of music blasting from your headphones. I traced the line defining your back with a marker that writes on air.
Seasons slipped by. You stood just six feet away in your savvy black bowtie. Fake, yes, but still considered formal. A cheap imitation at the very least, but to one of us, it's all the same. Closer yet, a foot again, only a seat away. I drew my fingers across the top of your surprisingly smooth hands, tracing your veins, the veins that carried your blood, faintly pulsing, speaking softly of gentle carresses and sweet nothings.
Eight feet away, across the classroom, I caught your eye. Mountains moved and dams ruptured as cool, silky waters quenched insatiable fires. There were things I noticed for the first time: the kindness that pampered children underlaying each tone, the strength that upheld the weak resonating from your arms, and the love that would not hesistate to sacrifice sparkling in your eyes. Suddenly, desire gripped me like a reawakened flame, heat up to par with the heat that causes your veins to bulge. I realized that those veins now contained my life's blood. My lifeblood.
I watched you run alongside me, ten feet away, racket up at guard. I've never told you that when you serve, you look exactly like the man on the back of the team shirt; indescribable yet immortalized for an eternity. Eternity, a neverending length of time, the amount of time I want to spend with you and you alone.
Twenty feet away, even further but still closer than ever. Twenty feet, the span of a hallway perhaps, from one set of locked doors to another heavy set. Still close, still close, for no matter the distance, we can bridge this gap. With what? With love. My love for you, and yours for me.
The lines before you sing softly, over and over, three resounding syllables: I love you.
