I looked at you and wanted to kiss your face.
The dark night sky fell inside the car window as we drove and we were close enough to make me nervous (which of course, in strange reality, is not that close at all) but we were listening to something, a voice, a song, the kissing tires against the asphalt--I don't remember.
I remember seeing you. I remembering forgetting the sound trapped within the car and the soft pressure of music against my dull ears, for a moment.
The small but powerful feeling of yearning to push my lips on your innocent cheek
unsettled me.
It wasn't hard
nor forceful.
It was soft
yet formidable.
I was, for a moment, swimming in the tide of looking at you and getting lost in such an overwhelming impulse of the moment. I don't know what I was thinking as my eyes swam toward you. (Well, I was obviously thinking about you) I simply lost myself in the labyrinth of an unexpected idea, an innocent and sweet thought, and my reality somehow ran far, far away from me...
Strange, the imprint a feeling you've never felt before leaves on you. Like a mossy footstep in the earth it presses against your pounding heart as if it were a sponge, a mark that never leaves you. Sometimes turning into a scar.
It frightened me
the way it was so natural--wanting to kiss your cheek.
It scared me.
It scares me how it almost happened without a thought if it was wrong or right.
It scares me thinking about it now,
perhaps because it was innocently powerful
and perhaps because I still yearn to do it.
Or perhaps because
I almost did.
I almost kissed you.
-k.p.b.
(I)
April 5 2016
Tuesday
April 5 2016
Tuesday
