wanting to

The orange glow swallowed by night outside, waiting for water to boil, my love light the only other around hearing the fire working below, and tired I forgot to withhold my impulse to dream a moment that I’d love to have occur.

It’s so brief and gripping that for a few seconds I lost my breath, hand to heart, and I had to rest my head upon the edge of the cutting board! With a barrel laugh that echoes throughout my empty house, I reflect what I saw:

Across from you for the first time ready to talk, a mission of queries to keep hopelessly inappropriate thoughts out,  you grin innocent.

As if it’s totally normal, I start, “OK, forgive me but before we begin, I need to feel your face.”

And to my surprise, you lean forward with an intent stare…

As if blind with eyes wide, my hands move to hold both of your cheeks, fingers fan around your brow, circling round your eyes, until my thumb traces your jaw bone up by your ear, and here I move forward wanting to

Oh, NO!!!

But, my boiling insides remind me that this is how I’d fuck shit up!

(After Days of essay writing, imagination plays tricks on me…a hotel room for a conversation, why ever would he allow me to experience him so intimately, what is my brain thinking, lol;)

I used to go to bed with a frown furrowing my brow, past pain interfering with peace mind, brain buzzing insults I’m trying to sleep-heal.

Now, a smile spreads solace across my face, visions of a lustrous star makes me feel temporarily safe.

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