you pull me in for a hug,
somehow your arms fit perfectly under mine.
a small classroom, flourescent lights humming like mosquitos on a gentle summer night
the sound of your heartbeat overtakes the ticking of the clock,
and suddenly
time doesn't exist.
i close my eyes and stay still.
i focus on your breathing now, and how much closer you are when you inhale.
why can't they all be inhales?
time reintroduces itself;
we pull away but our
bodies are
relecutant to let go,
like two stubborn puzzle pieces together after the inevitable destruction of a picturesque landscape.
our eyes meet and won't move
i smile lightly, you look down at my lips.
we stay like that for a moment.
then i notice your arms are leaving, because my body yearns for them to come back;
your
warmth is fleeting no matter how long you stay.
somehow you didn't
kiss me --
it's okay.
we all make
mistakes.