a sunday night 10:14 pm
lately i've been craving the smell you rub off onto my clothes.
it comes in sudden whiffs on my way home or in my hair the next day, you put meaning into faye webster.
im in love with the picture of your hand over my heart.
the contrast of white lace and strong fingers.
and usually i hate being smothered in my sleep but i can't help pressing into you tighter and needing more.
i'm sick with longing and vexation.
i hear myself complain randomly in the day.
catch the glare and scowl in the mirror.
peering into my phone screen for the millionth time.
maybe i scared you away, maybe i was too sweet, or too forward.
maybe you like them closed off and difficult.
but jeez did you untangle me so easily.
makes my heart ache.
»allison
