clingy clingy
this little spring tease has been waking up my lungs for 3 days straight and in the morning he makes my nipples stand up straight and it's a strange mix of emotion-- morningtime. like a weak levy holding back a flood and I will myself not to cry when the kisses on my neck get quicker because that's the signal that indicates he is getting up soon. and even when I trust the pace of his kisses there are so many who can not come out.
maybe
it's the hourglass time that's over before it starts. it's the dead end that i'm ignoring. a gray product in a black and white aisle. I don't know.
but I will myself not to cry (sometimes) when I look at him because his eyes make a promise that he has not.
we take a bottle of table wine to a dead patch of woods by the French Broad, right across from the highway: and we make up a counting game: every time we see a service vehicle he has to kiss me and every time we see a Subaru he gets to, well, satisfy the stupid little 12 year old that lives inside so many men.
post stupidity: there's the look.
a vulnerable and content little boy look and I want that look to be love.
all things aside when he gives me that look. i could hang on for that look.
it's not fair that my heart gaps when he needs space. everyone needs space. I can take space, appreciate space, even need space but I never WANT space. I'd be content to glue myself to a lover and I wonder if this will disappear with age or if I'm just doomed...
maybe
it's the hourglass time that's over before it starts. it's the dead end that i'm ignoring. a gray product in a black and white aisle. I don't know.
but I will myself not to cry (sometimes) when I look at him because his eyes make a promise that he has not.
we take a bottle of table wine to a dead patch of woods by the French Broad, right across from the highway: and we make up a counting game: every time we see a service vehicle he has to kiss me and every time we see a Subaru he gets to, well, satisfy the stupid little 12 year old that lives inside so many men.
post stupidity: there's the look.
a vulnerable and content little boy look and I want that look to be love.
all things aside when he gives me that look. i could hang on for that look.
it's not fair that my heart gaps when he needs space. everyone needs space. I can take space, appreciate space, even need space but I never WANT space. I'd be content to glue myself to a lover and I wonder if this will disappear with age or if I'm just doomed...