(i feel it most in my fingertips while i'm pretending not to care,
and it doesn't mean as much if i fold my arms into my sides before i can hold you in them...)

your voice is what autumn would sound like.
undulating muted colors, muted sounds,
and they are all beautiful as they
melt into my head.

and i don't remember much after you
kissed me on the cheek,
quiet,
innocent,
yet it burned unpure in my brain.
so we're sitting at the table
you say you haven't slept in a couple weeks.
you're tired,
lonely,
laughing,
and say everything's the same.
and i watch your lips as they are moving,
and i alone am merely choosing
to hear static instead of the things you
have to say.

you tucked a cigarette behind your ear,
tugged my sleeve and motioned me to
follow,
you took my hand and i felt i was
on fire.
cause i feel that it's unfair that i will
bend impossibly to please you yet
you will not break beneath the weight of
my desire.

what i honestly want worse than anything,
is to kiss you on the mouth and find
that you've been waiting even longer than i've been.
what i honestly want worse than anything
are your fingers tangled in my hair,
my name escaping your lips with your every breath.

(...you are the impossible dream i've been having lately.
and i don't ever want to wake.)