*
is this how obsession starts? A glimpse or two; then the persistent thoughts, the elusive daydreams. Then the burning desire to tangle fingers in your hair, reach on tiptoe(me, so very short, bite sized, free sample) to kiss the hollow of your throat, to smell soap and aftershave and man. This, i am led to believe, is desire.
Thoughts of you permeate my waking hours; a flash of dark eyes on a thin face. Sunken cheeks, the shadow of stubble on your jaw and a somewhat earnest expression. Left handed, practical, plain.
I have never wanted anything like this.
Will this be a long lived mania, I have to wonder. This kind of madness seems to be rather enjoyable
*
You wanted me too, at least once. I remember all those singular moments of feeling your fixed stare like a hand upon my shoulder
*
I found some pictures of you. If only pictures stole a piece the soul, so that I might have a bit of yours
*
The days go by without anything to recommend them. 3 months of absence. And I am left with a fixation bordering on obsession, seething in my veins like a tangle of restless snakes
*
O beloved, you are as far from me as Gliese. You
*
Such a small glimpse of you through the spaces in a crowd. Not nearly enough
I am a fool
*
But your eyes followed me. And my heart...- well, it beat.
is this how obsession starts? A glimpse or two; then the persistent thoughts, the elusive daydreams. Then the burning desire to tangle fingers in your hair, reach on tiptoe(me, so very short, bite sized, free sample) to kiss the hollow of your throat, to smell soap and aftershave and man. This, i am led to believe, is desire.
Thoughts of you permeate my waking hours; a flash of dark eyes on a thin face. Sunken cheeks, the shadow of stubble on your jaw and a somewhat earnest expression. Left handed, practical, plain.
I have never wanted anything like this.
Will this be a long lived mania, I have to wonder. This kind of madness seems to be rather enjoyable
*
You wanted me too, at least once. I remember all those singular moments of feeling your fixed stare like a hand upon my shoulder
*
I found some pictures of you. If only pictures stole a piece the soul, so that I might have a bit of yours
*
The days go by without anything to recommend them. 3 months of absence. And I am left with a fixation bordering on obsession, seething in my veins like a tangle of restless snakes
*
O beloved, you are as far from me as Gliese. You
*
Such a small glimpse of you through the spaces in a crowd. Not nearly enough
I am a fool
*
But your eyes followed me. And my heart...- well, it beat.
