girl, there is no way to get your undivided attention, not with this music playing. i’m sitting back & slightly rocking, thinking of all the fruits your hands have picked, a rainbow of ripeness all the way up your palm. you make moving look so easy.
sometimes the yearning hurts so bad that it becomes manifest, a new part of me i didn’t even know existed starting to ache. i reach out but find only air. i’d use the word phantom if it was close enough. but this feeling is not not there, just not available right now. i wonder about other universes & wonder if another me could rub out the knots from my shoulders, warm the cables of this multi-dimensional anxiety straight.
it’s very ugly, you’ll never know. i can’t even begin to describe how much i think of you, how much of me is gnawing obsession. all higher functions shutting down in order to be around you, think about being around you, think about thinking about being around you. i’m half-scared you’ll find me one day, half-metabolised in thought.
but i think about the lines of your body, & how space bends for you. i think about everything i’d give to just evaporate into the air, be touching you all over, sink into your pores. maybe it’s the state of wanting more that i like, & not actually the getting of it. but i’m in the corner & i’m watching you dance to the song that makes you feel deified. i tug on the curtains because i worry a ray of light will hit you & you will turn into smoke, dissolve into the rest of the world, prove to me that perfection is unstable.
delighted, you’re delighted, i hear you say to someone else. what in life is there to be so delighted about, i think, unless you have a compact mirror pressed up against your iris ? your pleasure must come from a place more altruistic than mine, because i wouldn’t see the point in breathing the word of the world if i were you. i’d spend all my time just intensifying myself, move beyond a point of rehabilitation to find a rhythm where it all kicks over.
just take another step away or towards me, anything that’s moving, anything understanding. i couldn’t leave you, wouldn’t ask for a statue, would make sure to have something beating inside my chest before coming back to beg forgiveness. i don’t think you realise how the whole world hinges on your easy breathing.