I am getting older now and I still obsess about a perfect moment gone by, but it is only after a couple of days have gone by that I realise that this moment was not just perfect, but my younger self craved it so badly, it was picturesque, like something from a tv show or a film or a book or a song or a music video, something so good it was almost not real
It is a moment I would have written about in one of my fantasising stories, or a moment that I would have created to exaggerate a moment that actually happened yet paled in comparison and needed fluffing up to make it more romantic
I didn't expect for him to brush rain droplets off of my forehead without warning while we waited for the ticket machine to print out the ticket for his car
We walked around the city linked by our arms and he commented that my hair wasn't actually getting frizzy in the downpour like I had said it would
When we were driving back he touched my arm to check if I was getting warmer, adjusting the settings of the heating with care
In the car when he dropped me home I knew he would go in for the kiss so I took off my seatbelt slowly, didn't rush to get out of the car. He was hyping himself up, I could tell, and when he took off his seatbelt too I knew what I had guessed at would come true
His face was so close to mine, his hand on my thigh, and the kiss was slow and steady and deep and deep
My favourite part was at the end, he pulled back slightly and left a gorgeously indulgent soft caress of a kiss at the corner of my mouth, like a goodbye but not forever, save it for another time, can't wait to do this again. Every time I think of that I swoon, and life seems so radiant to me.
YOU ARE READING
muse
Poetry" because sometimes at night i like to muse, and maybe i could write these thoughts down "
