Ardor

December 6, 2013

 

A marked lack of restraint
at last
here in private.
You know I can’t
(or won’t)
share my passion
out in the world
met by prying eyes,
but you also know
my deepest heart and
darkest longings
and most intense
desires
and you know
how I melt inside
when you do those things
in public places
and populated spaces;
a pressure to my palm,
a casual hand brushed
against my thigh
or a slightly possessive
posture, pressure against
the small of my back when
I’m laughing at someone else’s jokes,
as if to say,
“I’m here too, don’t forget
about us, about who is going home
with you
tonight.”

 

 

 

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