The way that your mouth twisted against mine
Told me that you wanted to be anywhere but in the moment.
Yet your body moved into mine flawlessly, as if it had always been there,
As if we were seeing each other for the millionth time,
And you laughed -  realizing the ridiculousness of it all.
I looked at you as though you were the most lovely thing I’d ever seen.

A thousand times I told myself that I was not bad,
But I was walking a line, and toeing it less and less carefully.
It was selfishness that flooded through me, causing me to
Kick your reservations to the floor.. to stomp
On the respect that had grounded you from touching me
And we realized that there’s always another line somewhere.

When you finally spoke, you spoke as if you were talking through
A tin can and string, grainy and mottled – strained with brooding guilt.
I heard things like, “can’t” and “wrong” and “if only” -
But your words - underwater echoes - vibrated against my brain,
And gave me an unwelcome tightness in my throat.
I said nothing.

I breathed hot air against your neck, rejecting your requests of pause.
When I touched you, my fingers grazed your side, grazed the flat, smooth
Skin of your stomach, creating static movements under the covers.
It was a hard thing to understand, I realized, being drawn to someone
So unavailable.  So unreal.  And yet, there you were.
More charged and more real than anyone I’d ever known.

All the “no’s” disappeared into the sheets, quietly overturned by our
Undeniable attraction to one another.   You unraveled me -
Carefully stripping off the layers that made me feel like I was good.
Raw and uncertain, I sank into your hands.
And for the moment, when your mouth twisted against mine
I pretended it moved like silk.

I pretended we were threaded together
By something bigger than we really were.
Like all the bad in the world was good.
Good enough to keep moving against each other in that hungry way.
Silk.  Soft – delicate – fine enough to tear.
And so we did.