my palm feels sweaty in yours,
fingers knotted a little too tight,
the blood pumping from my heart
is caught, clogging my veins,
clotting my words like wads of tissues
in my throat.
You shrug your shoulders in your simple way,
and tuck a stray blonde strand behind an ear.
You look at me, blue eyes, eyebrows raised
in mocking surprise.
In this life, there are three kinds of people:
those who believe we have the willpower to fly,
those who say gravity is something we can't defy,
and then there's you, who points to the planes in the sky,
and say "look, we already do."
You were like water,
the type of person I could never hold on to.
You lay naked in my bed,
and I traced the outline of your dragonfly tattoo,
my entire soul aching, all for the love of you.
But I know tomorrow you'll be tangled up with another guy;
I'm just your Friday night.
And so, as you pull your hand from mine,
I close my eyes,
imagining the way you'd look
if you turned, and ran back to me.
Golden mane streaming out like sun-rayed ribbons,
tears upon your cheeks.
I feel your fragile body connect with mine,
I taste the salty bitterness that stains your face.
I hold you, protect you, keep you safe,
and your heart's rapid beating calms its pace,
until I realize its the just forgotten echos
of your footsteps