didn't really land

She’s chewing on a pen and it is… awesome.  And I know that you’re
thinking that I’m thinking something dirty and maybe I am but it’s
still awesome and I… don’t… fucking… care.  I really don’t.
Those lips… I’ve dreamed, you know.  And I can’t wait to dream
again.  Soon.  Please.  Oops.  She caught me staring.  Haha.  Yeeeaah.  Hiiiiiii.  Yes I’m looking.  Sorry.  Not really.  Not at all actually.  Have you seen
you?  Come on.  OK.  She’s reading her book again.  And she must be at
a good part because the slightest little smile…  Brightness!  Unless…  You think she was thinking about me looking at her?  Even a little?  I’m going
to believe that’s the case.  Just for a minute, OK?  It could be one
of the best minutes of my day.  Or life.  Do you have any idea how
much I want to kiss that girl right now?  Seriously.  I want to hold
her.  For hours.  I want to know what she wants to do… and be…  I
want to know who she is… and was…  I want to exist in her orbit.
Even if only briefly.  Yeah, I want to hold her.  I want to hold her…
And I want to know what kind of underwear she’s wearing.  I want to
be the last face she sees at night.  And I want to be the first thing
she touches in the morning… every morning… tomorrow morning…  I
want to hear the story behind that charm on her necklace that she
keeps playing with.  I want to like her as much as I think I could
like her and would like her and… I want that chance.  And I want her to
like me too.  I want to be frazzled by her.  Fucking frazzled.  I want to not
be able to say the right things all the time.  Even when I’m thinking, “If
awesome had a face… it would still be jealous of yours.” I want to stumble
on my words and tell her that they didn’t come out right and for her to say it’s
OK, but laugh a little, and then I want to ask if I can kiss her, even though I am going to anyway,  and for her to say she supposes with a fake hmmm face and then I want to pause for a second, if that, just to savour, you know…
And then I want to kiss her.  Fuck… me… I want to kiss her.  Softly.
Sweetly.  And I want it to be better than I ever dreamed because I know
it would be and will be.  And… And I want her to put her hand on my
cheek.  Her delicate, perfect hand… I want her to put her hand on my cheek,
look in my eyes, smile and ask, “What took you so long?”  Then I want to
kiss her again.  For real.


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8 Responses

  1. I like how you are able to put into words, and pretty ones at that, the kind of things that go on in your head. I think many of us have similar thoughts but aren’t able to express them so nicely on paper, errr, internet paper.

    Nice one.

  2. Wendryn says:

    I like this very much.

  3. Alexia says:

    Are your posts based on fantasies of women you see in coffee shops or waiting in front of you in line, or dreaming on buses…or do you make them up?

    PS: ‘Oh, wait’…for what?

  4. Adore.

    And even though this is (presumably) fiction, that smile is ALWAYS because she knows you’re watching.

    Unless she’s reading David Sedaris. Then it’s probably a combination of factors.

  5. Paula says:

    I just don’t understand how you can be talking about me here? We’re not even in the same country… Hehe.

  6. Jennifer says:

    I love this one.

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