I waited all day and even some of the night for you.I'm obsessive that way.I wish I wasn't. I wish I could be cool and aloof and self contained like my stylish girlfriends. I'm not.
My singular personality trait keeps me tied to you like a boat moored to a rock. I may feel as if I'm moving but I am still held by your power to draw me. I love you. I love the idea of you. My heart clenches inside when I reach for you and you unconsciously ignore the gesture.
It isn't that I need you to define myself. It is because the wildness of my sex still fires me up when I'm near you. This morning I watched you shave, leaning against the sink, a towel tied snugly around your waist. I rose and came up behind you to kiss your warm still wet shoulder and smooth my hand over the curve of your ass through the steamy warm terrycloth.
How can I be so invisible to you and your schedule when to me you are the sun I orbit? I'm there and not there. I have become the ambiance of your life, like furniture or a cloud moving among the trees. Atmosphere. I long and ache to be the subject of the picture , not just the mood for it. I long for you. I want you to be with me, near me, in me. Not forever, but long enough so I can match my heartbeats to yours.
It is a heavy thing to have all this passion and nowhere to put it. Take it. Take me my love. Take me somewhere dark and sweet.
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