the way it makes me feel
when your slick black shirt slides
so smoothly against the skin
on your back, sides, or shoulders
at the gentle touch of my fingertips
the way you nuzzle in sometimes
with that soft whisper of a groan
letting me know you just
want to be close
just close
for a moment
the way you work so so hard
so hard
all the time
but the skin on your hands
somehow stays
so soft
so so soft
anyway
the way you look
in your button-ups and ties
in your basketball shorts
and in your hot-water showers,
the streaks of
flushed skin
the way you hold me
not with your arms
but like every cell in my body
is directed toward you,
aimed at you
whenever you walk in-
my awareness
peaked by your presence
even if i don't look up
the way i miss you
when you're
gone
the way you hold my child
the way you speak
the way you look at him
like he's part of you
and part of me
the way he is
the way you pick up on my slack
whenever i give it to you
and you don't say a word
not a word
about it
the way your
blue eyes look at me
when they look at me
and i know
i know
My Younger Daughter is writing same like this in her language...(Sinhalese)
ReplyDeletejust Remembered