an unrehearsed universe

Silence

I remember the day it changed,
the day he went from being that guy,
a friend of a friend,
to a being wanted
but unattainable. 

Now when he speaks my body shakes,
distracted by visions of his lips on mine,
whispering naughty nothings
betwixt fevered fondlings.

My flesh aflame when he enters the room,
nerves go into overdrive from the effort
not to touch, not to beg, not to plead. 

In my wildest moments
I convince myself the indifference is feigned:
his smiles, his looks, his laugh
are an admission, an acknowledgement,
signs for me alone to interpret. 

Mostly his indifference enervates me
past the point of reason.

I have become that girl,
the one who finds excuses
to press myself against him
and inhale his scent,
the memory a cold comfort
on lonely nights. 

Sometimes I am sure that he knows,
feigned ignorance his way of
letting me down gently;
I am ever the fool. 

The tension is unbearable.
I have never been 
more comfortable in my life
with someone who wants
so very little from me. 

I am torn;

the desire to speak –
take the chance that will lead to
running my hands over places
I have only glimpsed –

wars with the delicious tension of silence –
the waiting game,
the nervous anticipation
of seeing and not speaking.

The days are empty,
flatter and colder,
life lived in monochrome.
With one look, one word
he rains colors on my world. 

I wish I knew how to
make my image
thing he falls asleep to at night
and wakes up to in the morning. 

Afraid to try and fail,
I might be more afraid
not to try at all;
what a viciously funny thing.