The nerves under my finger tips -
writhing to get loose
to wrap them selves around you
like the slipknot to a noose.
My back,
my torso,
my body,
gravitating towards yours.
Leaning back with out control
to try and rest
upon your chest.
I try and find something to occupy my hands
so that the muscles
do not contract
and constrict
with out will
to reach across the table
and hold your fumbling hands still.
The words
“I Still Love you”
resting just inside my cheek
trying to make their way out
with every other word that I speak.