amore

it's poetry, the look on your face for me. my eyes scan the edges of your face and neck and hands and mouth, like making a quick, sloppy sketch on a cocktail napkin to crumple in my pocket and save for later. in front of you, i stand in awe. i see the breadth of you, fragile and on display. i see it all. you are silent but the sound of your voice like a ribbon it envelopes me. i feel the warmth of your fingertips, but you've yet to touch me. with quiet anticipation i long for sustained glances, but they are only fleeting. reality tugs at my skirt and pulls me away from you. with heavy eyes and a heavy heart i wake from slumber.