C. Watching...
I've been watching you closely...
every move that you make
All the things that you show to me, are getting harder to take...- Jack Savoretti
I watch you.
Silently marvelling in my ability to only see you, only hear you, only think you.
You're features become heightened, somehow brighter, more enticing, like special effects in a movie.
I can almost measure the exact width of your smile and the exact hue of brown in your eyes.
I imagine the feel of your hair teasing my fingertips ever so softly, like burnt silk.
I watch you and I wonder what you're thinking.
Do you ever, think, of me?
I want to know the thoughts of me that make your hands sweat and your muscles twitch.
Those that make you bite your lips to keep from screaming my name.
What sound or image of me brings goosebumps to your skin?
I want to know the things you think but do not say, even those that scare you because they are too much to accept.
I want to know what will make you break.
What does it take?
More skin? Less attention?
What turns you on?
Come on, I want to know.
I watch you, now breathing heavily, trying to hide the turmoil inside.
You seem to already know how to turn my wheels and boil my blood.
Like a spell, my eyes search desperately until they find you, my lips turn into a smile when I hear your voice and my mind screams when someone gets too close.
The spell trapped you in my skin, it calls to you and waits, heated.
The wait for what will never come turns exhausting and I give up.
I hate you for a while, but then, a word, a gesture or the smallest touch turns me into fire again.
I watch you, sighing in defeat, for what I know is probably just a waste of time.
I close my eyes and walk away, engaging in something else, laughing to quiet your own laughter ringing in my ears.
And in the back of my mind there's an image of you holding me...
You hold me and through your eyes I see myself speaking into your bare chest, telling you of mornings where I analyzed every movement, every crease and fold, every sound you made. And you smile, running your fingers through my hair and down my back and whisper...
I watched you too.
every move that you make
All the things that you show to me, are getting harder to take...- Jack Savoretti
I watch you.
Silently marvelling in my ability to only see you, only hear you, only think you.
You're features become heightened, somehow brighter, more enticing, like special effects in a movie.
I can almost measure the exact width of your smile and the exact hue of brown in your eyes.
I imagine the feel of your hair teasing my fingertips ever so softly, like burnt silk.
I watch you and I wonder what you're thinking.
Do you ever, think, of me?
I want to know the thoughts of me that make your hands sweat and your muscles twitch.
Those that make you bite your lips to keep from screaming my name.
What sound or image of me brings goosebumps to your skin?
I want to know the things you think but do not say, even those that scare you because they are too much to accept.
I want to know what will make you break.
What does it take?
More skin? Less attention?
What turns you on?
Come on, I want to know.
I watch you, now breathing heavily, trying to hide the turmoil inside.
You seem to already know how to turn my wheels and boil my blood.
Like a spell, my eyes search desperately until they find you, my lips turn into a smile when I hear your voice and my mind screams when someone gets too close.
The spell trapped you in my skin, it calls to you and waits, heated.
The wait for what will never come turns exhausting and I give up.
I hate you for a while, but then, a word, a gesture or the smallest touch turns me into fire again.
I watch you, sighing in defeat, for what I know is probably just a waste of time.
I close my eyes and walk away, engaging in something else, laughing to quiet your own laughter ringing in my ears.
And in the back of my mind there's an image of you holding me...
You hold me and through your eyes I see myself speaking into your bare chest, telling you of mornings where I analyzed every movement, every crease and fold, every sound you made. And you smile, running your fingers through my hair and down my back and whisper...
I watched you too.