its just curiosity.i know it.once i pop the balloon it'll be over.

there are so many things i dont like about him.
the way he smells,like rustic wood and melted wax.
the way his eyes shine in the red and sometimes yellow light.
i dont like the way he writes,the way he concentrates with his head hung low,the way he has courage to lie on the floor and take pictures of maestros.all of these soft marshmallow feelings that squish themselves between my hollow graham cracker-like stomach.when he kisses me,i stare out the window.when i straighten the creases on his face they defy me and go back to where they were.
but then he goes on and fixes my shirt on the small of my back.
activates goosebumps around my elbow area.sings with me in highs and lows and helps me get over my fear of animals.
hangs onto my chocolate puffed cloud and brings me down to earth.

and i like the fact that i remember he likes lemonade and not coke.i like to watch him rush himself cuz he doesnt like to keep me waiting.i like how he catches my innuendos in sentences and bursts out laughing.

electricity-

I know what it is why I never said anything.I was so scared you'd be embarassed about being with me.There was you,verbose,confident,walking with blatant maturation and then there was me.Who knew nothing about anything,and was happy that way.We were 'F' and 'V' from the alphabet,unable to fit and make sense.I would have put up with the ego,and the thin smile and all the hate in the world you would have thrown at me,for one day out of the year that you could feel my happy.A happy that involves no care except how well you're enjoying the fall afternoon breeze.A happy that seeps into other people and leaves them feeling like they just drank hot chocolate.A happy that comes home to nothing,but is content with the way the universe works.

A happy we would have created,with our own hands.That would bear fruit and give shade and shine in the Sun.

I am not ashamed to admit that our conversations left me pondering for days and days.You would be surprised to notice how much I've mentioned you in my writing.You've unconciously been sitting my mind for....God knows how long.Since I tried to get you to play tic tac toe the first time we met.Since the day you scoffed at me in front of a bus full of girls.Since.....since you bought me that necklace that I still have.I don't know what it means,what it all means,what anything ever meant.But to think that it meant something,is a bit reassuring.I was not alone like I thought I was.

And I would not have cared about my friends.I would not have cared about anyone if you had just said something.If only you had come to me with glazed donuts and iced coffee instead of it being the other way around.If only you'd have been vocal about things that mattered instead of things that didn't.If only.

maybes.

He was wide awake the second the bed creaked with her movement.
Had he dared....?
Think he did...she was there wasn't she...?He could hear her softly breathing through the covers,his own breath short and confused.
What an amazing night it was though.
What an absolutely amazing night.
They had turned off the lights so her body glistened in the moonlight.He had touched her as if she was a dream.Smooth,like cold marble.She had giggled,a bit tipsy.
God she was fucking gorgeous,he thought laying there.He hadn't seen her in years,and here she was now...walking towards him in the busy London street,her hair down till her waist,walking hippie-like...laid-back,natural,smiling.His friends stared back and forth,and he tried to look unaffected,beads of sweat building on his nape.
'I don't know how well you do with hugs',she had said,so she kissed him on the cheek.

'He's always been so smooth' she thought.'I'm so fucking nervous'.She was polite to him in front of all of his friends,people she thought she should behave in front of.Otherwise she would most likely demand a piggy-back ride.Or a hug.His voice had always been like a jazz melody to her,strong and creamy.Pulled-together.Not giving away anything.They had lunch that they forgot to pay attention to,so much talking was being done.He always talked more she thought.Which was fine,all she knew was to sit pretty and listen.She had shaved her legs in the morning and then lotioned every part of her body till her roommate walked in and said 'What's the occasion?'.She didn't know how to answer that one.Long ago friends meeting as grown-ups now?That would probably be the most appropriate way to describe it.Her roommate had raised an eyebrow.'I want to hear all the details when and if you get back',she said chuckling.

She shrugged,but felt a bit embarrassed.

Now she sat listening to his uncanny ability to roll politics,literature and the greater good of the world all into one.He didn't look any younger than 3-4 years ago.But he smelled like peppermint oil and rosewood.She quickly changed his clothes in her mind and all of a sudden he was carrying a cane, his leather gloves and top hat resting near his chamomile tea.Hair glossily slicked back,still smelling of exotic scents.1920's?T.S.Eliot?Maybe.

It was times like these when he wished he could tell what was on her mind.Her eyes were at him,but they were glassy and reflective.Her smile distracted.'Pumpkin-flavored eclair bongs,' he said, completely off-topic.'What the hell was that for?' she asked.'Ok,so you are paying attention.I thought otherwise'.

They had had their fair share of drinks,their fair share of unravelling the ropes that bound their existences.A Saturday well-spent.No one noticed who made the first move.She was singing in the dark because he asked her to,and it was easier that way.Then she sang their song,and they were both smiling in the dark.Hands started moving,and it was at that moment that she thought 'We really do take hands for granted.They're the beginning of everything.And sometimes the end too'.

She liked to sleep after sex,and this situation was too awkward to talk anyway.She was glad they had turned off the light.
He hoped this wasn't goodbye.He hoped his ego would step down and let this second person in.It was about time.

I thought it would take you 10 years to become what you have in 3.Not that 15 minutes of phone conversation can tell,but sometimes,it can.
Sometimes you are glad to let the changes in people come and go as they do.sometimes,change isn't so bad.Sometimes I used to think,I really don't need this in my life right now,but you need everything thrown at you to be what you are now.I'm not saying I'm perfect right at this momemt,cuz I thought I used to be...I'm just...better in a way only people can see.And I think people are a better judge of character than yourself sometimes.
But no,I like you.I always have,in a cocky, i-don't-know-what-to-do-with-him kinda way.You brought me down,ridiculed my shallowness,made me feel unworthy to be alive,but I took it.All of it.And now you talk to me,and its different.I like you better,or you like me better,whichever one works.

swans and the swimming

"take me again," she said, thinking of him
"to the pond with the swans and the swimming"
far from his room the familiar perfume
how it felt to her when she was naked
lessons she learned when her memory slurs
as they marvel with love at the sunset
walking away at the dark end of day
she will measure and break like a habit
oh how the rain sounds as light as a lover’s word
and now and again she’s afraid when the sun returns

"take me again," she said, thinking of him
"i don’t care for this careful behavior"
a brush through her hair, children kissing upstairs
keeps her up with her want for her savior
the sun on the sand, on her knees and her hands
as she begs for her fish from the water
but turn them away, she’s a whip and a slave
given time she may find something better
oh how the rain sounds as loud as a lover’s words
and now and again she’s afraid when the sun returns