A foolish mistake.
An act of cowardice.
That's what it is.
But that isn't what it feels like.
His hand is warm against mine.
His fingers pale and smooth.
And I almost lock mine against his,
But then I can feel his gaze on me.
And I dare to look up.
The intensity only shrinks me at first.
But then, I see something more.
Something that reflects my longing...
I am overthinking it.
I know for a fact that I am.
I don't know him.
I just know I've fallen for him.
I long to be wrapped in his arms...
But I can't do that.
He doesn't know me.
He never will.
And so I force myself to look away,
Breaking eye contact.
And force my hand away,
Missing the sensation of his touch.
And slowly the moment fades away,
As I grab the book and try to stand,
The silence is too heavy,
The intensity of his gaze too much,
For my fragile form to bear.
I stand up too quickly,
The suddeness of the movement,
Paralyzing my knees, momentarily,
Throwing my head back
And just as I prepare myself for the impact,
I feel him grip my arm,
Keeping me balanced.
And once again I feel,
His warm touch against my skin.
And once again I smell,
The lemon and mint of his fragrance.
And once again I look,
Into those breathtaking eyes,
And once again I fall,
This time,
Harder than ever before.
YOU ARE READING
Him & Her
PoetryHe is in love with her. She is in love with him. Their problem? She can't speak. He doesn't know if he can wait. But they both want a happy ending. Badly. A love that was mute, unspoken, but deep, all the same. It's not complicated. Unless you're...
