your breath still lingers on my skin
while mine remains stolen
in your touches
and simple caresses.
i can still hear your whispers in my mouth
and taste your words upon my lips
(you could never imagine how i long
to have you on my mouth again)
my spine is racked with shivers whenever
i remember you (your tender hardness)
your body, pressed like linen against mine.
warmth, like passion, soaks
our ashen skin.
i caught the smile on your lips
as your face turned away from my direction.
my eyes flashed constantly towards you
(to return your gesture),
and i was silent
i wanted to tell the man sitting beside you that
no, i wasn’t staring at him
(i was staring at you), so
stop thinking that my smiles are for you, but
you never met my gaze. and i wondered
if you were just shy…
or if the momentary smile on your lips
had been only mere coincidence or, very simply,
(and more likely) only my imagination…
my eyes remained fixed
at the center of your back,
on the point between your shoulder blades,
as you stepped off the train.
lamenting that our stop was next
and asking why, instead,
i couldn’t entertain the thought of one smile
for one station longer.
upon uncommonly cool summer eves,
the spritely breeze beckons fireflies
from their clever hiding spaces,
the same way the moon beckons the stars at night.
zooming past cracked car windows
like miniature meteors and falling stars,
the nightly atmosphere becomes so densely packed with lights
that, at any other moment, become lost to our earthly senses.