// centurion

You keep me
On the edge of my seat;
Your touch
Is erotically innocent.
Your hugs –
I’m folded into your warm darkness;
You say nothing,
Yet your eyes say so much…
And those lips…
I wonder what it would be like
To kiss them?

// catalyst

Emotions snowballing from a few words
Carefully placed on the table cards dealt face up
And I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could
You are an Adonis cloaked in urban mundanity
A reluctant angel – where do you hide your wings
Sometimes it seems I can almost see them.
I thought I could touch for one brief moment
Hold a piece of your bright and shining light
But I’ve unexpectedly tipped the scales
Unbalanced the world you carefully created
Left you unsure and myself invalidated
I wish I could hold you and look you in the eye
Hear you tell me that it’s alright, that we still exist
Within the same space, that nothing’s changed –
I should have kept you as private obsession.

You hold yourself precise, aloof
At a distance, at arm’s length
Yet I always finding you standing on my edges.

I notice
The conspiratorially grey nature of your eyes
The way you stiffly stand
Hands jammed
In pockets deep enough to hold them.

You smirk,
Not with condescension,
But one that says,
“Come smirk with me.”
As if a constant battle rages
Between your reservation and a
Mischievous grin that seems to lurk beneath.

A solid head on ungainly shoulders
A stoop as if uncomfortable with height
An intriguing mix of youth and manhood
A boyish face with ageless eyes.

You’re a person of extremes, it seems
Loud one minute, quiet the next
You remind me of a summer storm –
A flash, a thunderous clap and then
You’re calm again
Leaving me to wonder at your depths.