You stand there
Making eyes at me
And I playfully choose to ignore you.
You cross your elbow through mine
And I look in the other direction, avoiding your gaze.
So your hand,
Blooms of the vine of creeping wisteria that is your arm-
Long, Resilient,
Slides around my hips,
Pulls me in nearer to your familiar form,
and takes root there.
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 5:57 AM UTC
You stand there
Making eyes at me
And I playfully choose to ignore you.
You cross your elbow through mine
And I look in the other direction, avoiding your gaze.
So your hand,
Blooms of the vine of creeping wisteria that is your arm-
Long, Resilient,
Slides around my hips,
Pulls me in nearer to your familiar form,
and takes root there.
- From Terms of Endearment
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