If I write this to you here, maybe I’ll be able to forget all about it by tomorrow.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
It’s all I’ve ever known it to be.
I find myself wondering if you ever wonder about me.
Do you feel it when my eyes linger a little too long?
Do you notice the way my fingertips brush past the palm of your hand when I hand you the keys?
I think of you when I shampoo my hair.
I want you to be the one to smell it.
And, when I brush my teeth.
I want you to be the one to taste the peppermint on my mouth.
I walk the halls and wonder if I’ll run into you.
I watch the window and see you find your car to leave at the end of the day.
I see your hair and my fingers long to get lost in it.
I see your lips and I ache to know what it feels like to kiss them.
I see your hands on the keyboard and I want to know what it would feel like to have them on me.
I see your fingernails, freshly painted, and I want to feel them digging into my thighs.
You always talk to me and I wonder if you know.
You walk me to my room and I don’t know if I should tell you to go back to yours,
Or close the door behind you.