Feigning acquiescence to complacency while
just below the surface tender thoughts of passion seep;
out of the places where I had locked them away,
from the deep recess of my soul, they defy me;
rising to the top like bubbles of air,
traitorous thoughts that divulge my human needs.
Eyes longing for a reciprocating connection,
yet I would sooner cut them from their sockets
then betray you dear.
Finger tips craving for the touch of skin
while simultaneously burning with disdain at my weakness.
Longing to feel, to smell, to hold,
to wrap you in my arms and press my lips against your hair.
Irrepressible, intangible desires that are also somehow
inexplicably and perplexingly tangible.
