Missed connections

How is it even possible that you could be coming back in on my last day of work? I don't understand this. After over a year of nothing and now you decide that today was going to be the day you came in during a morning shift...at a time I should have been there but I wasn't because JP sent me home early. I'm clawing at some sort of celestial reason, hoping this was all in the cards and I just haven't been reading my cards so I'm missing all of my messages. Are you single now? Are you thinking about me? Are you wondering about me? This time I'll be glad to see you, proud to say I go to the U and work at the library, riveting  you with my quick wit and loud charm. I want be with you come winter; warm and snug on opposite ends of the room watching each other do our thing. You could really fall in love with me, I already feel like part of you did but there was a misfire of information that led to long silence. What's going to happen? 

Near you

I listen to Pure Bathing Culture's "Pray For Rain" and I touch myself with orange citrus fingers seeking sonic love from your memory. I couldn't ask for more than you to wrap those insanely warm arms around me. I need to be near you, I want to be part of you. Cool gaze and laughing smiles, arms brushing together while I giggle box and you watch. I wish I had been there, woken up sleepy still from your powerful presence. I feel that way when I'm with you, pretty and clever and sexy. I could do things for you, do them with you, if you'd let me. 

Now

Come over right now. Knock gently so you don't wake my cousins and I'll answer swiftly. It's 3 am and I can't sleep because I'm so mad at you right now. You grab my waist and we kiss, crushing and every other meaning of that word. There is a pressure to your presence and I know that if my breasts aren't kissed and caressed I'll just explode and all this will be for nothing. Take me away, tease me till I'm in tears but please don't forget those touches, those looks of pure need. Touch me all over, write hieroglyphics on my arm and tell me your what your hurt heart has to say. 

It never happened.

It was stunted and had its wings clipped before a chance was even possible. I feel defeated and wrong. You couldn't possibly be mad at me, could you? Did you think I didn't want to come? I couldn't! I know your plight, I know your pain and I see now that this was a small test for you. You needed me and I teased and then fucked off from you. I think I may have embarrassed our circle of trust. "Knew it" wasn't right and I was wrong and I wish I could take it back in the form of sucking the words from the place in your heart where they fell, burned and soured our fun. You made me feel dejected and I guess I had it coming. 

But you have to know that I fantasized about what could have been. Barely opening my eyes while acting out simple lust. Straddling you on your love seat, holding your chest back with my palms while you press yourself into me. Just going for it. I should have went for it. I'm sorry. 

Waiting

I couldn't breathe after she told me you had come in. I sat shocked and immedietly wondered aloud the "why" and "when." Sitting there in the Cabrio top down on the Fourth of July with crackers cracking and hearts being restarted. I couldn't believe it; sought photographic recognition and it was confirmed. Why now? Will be have a "run in?" and then on top of everything else in my life. Waiting now for a new confirmation of a job and hopefully higher pay. I just paced and thought and fretted and swooned over you and then went back to pacing. If I leave will I ever see you again? I wished I would and I guess it wasn't me who got to see you. Maybe you were desperate and maybe you were there and nervous to be known. I just get this far away lost feeling in me when I think about you. Wistful and mysterious and fucking wonderful from fear of the unknown. Your hand running up the side of my thigh. A wooded glen. A brush of lips. A cool pond with mossy rocks. Thick pressure making me fall. A mousterian with ancient paintings. Where are you tonight and who are you thinking of. Come see me, I'll be at the library. 

Heart Attack

It's happening more and more frequently: romance regret. The men that were a part of my life long ago and the men now and everyone I ever kissed and everyone I ever lied and said "I love you too" to is coming out of the grave like an undead heart just pounding with possibilities. 

He sent me into a tail spin this morning by just "liking" a photo, not even one of me but one that belonged to me. I see it almost immedietly and I wonder why...and then I'm sad because I'm lonely for his body, his tall frame towing over me and giving me that dumb, dopey eyes look he's so famous for. I've been thinking about him and I wish there was some way to work through it all but I know that timing is never on my side except when it comes to other things. And then I'm out at Passion Flour with Bri and in walks another man who dissapointed me at one point. He saw me once after he made me upset at last years Urban Flea Market and he waved to me and I saw and then ignored him. He saw me today and made a move and then backed away, like I was a viper he thought was a garter snake. I don't even want to think about that part of my life, it doesn't exist. I kiss a boy and I fall in love and I just don't know any better; don't know how to not fall in love, there is always something I like or I don't even bother in the first place. One night stands are for people who have nothing better to do with themselves. It's all I can do to not look at his face on the book and dream about that mouth, once so familiar and now full of strange stories and new methods of exploration. I want that suffocating pressure to make me lose my breath, remind me what it is to be a woman. Friction is occurring, he only works a few blocks away and I had my opportunity to make an appearance and yet I couldn't bear it if he looked at me the wrong way. All these years, almost 10 of them and still I am worried for his approval, junked out by his hands on my breasts and ass. I wanna be there, back in my bedroom that day we were alone and fucking. What's fair anymore? What are the rules now? I'm older, I can support the expense.