Untitled 92

I’m watching you from across the street. You left work early. You’re going out for drinks with the girls.

No, I’m not insane. I’m not a stalker or a madman or a psychopath. This is the first time I’ve ever done this. As a matter of fact I had to force myself to do it. I had to force myself to observe, to be witness, because this brain of mine is slow to uptake. I’m not fast on the download.

You could have been in my arms. You could have been whispering in my ear. We could have had that conversation we’ve been needing to have. Or we could have spent the afternoon in each other’s arms, saying nothing at all, steaming and simmering and melting into one another good and slow and thorough.

But you’re going out for drinks with the girls.

That’s all. You’ll never read this draft. No one ever will. This goes right to the recycle bin. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, not even this afternoon.

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