I want to touch you. I want to touch the strong line of your jaw. I want to touch the gentle waves of your dark hair and the crease of your brow. I want to trace your lips that so easily shape a joyless smile. I want to touch the stiff edge of your collar and loosen the fine silk of your tie. I want to lay my hand on your neck and feel the hot beating of your desperate heart. I want to hold your hands in mine and feel the strength of your bones, how lightly you can touch despite it. I want to take you in my arms and feel the weight of your head on my breast, feel the tension in your shoulders, brush my hand over your bent back. I want to touch you to feel the immensity of your burden in this mortal body.
But I can’t.
I want to touch you. I want to touch the sharp edges of your cheekbones, your jaw, your sneering lips. I want to touch your close-shaved temple and feel it shift beneath my fingers as you clench your teeth. I want to touch the place where your pale skin disappears beneath black cloth. I want to touch your hands, trace the long, graceful lines of your fingers that so easily hold a knife. I want to touch your chest, oh so very gently, and feel the stubborn beating of the heart within. I want to touch your skin and feel its warmth, to remember that despite your beauty, you are not made of marble or ice. I want to touch you to remember that you live, breathe, feel.
But I can’t.
I never have and never will. Sometimes I fear that longing will eat away at me my entire life. I wonder if it will eventually drive me mad. Maybe.
Thank you, friend. <3
On Fri, Mar 17, 2017 at 7:13 AM, Only Fragments wrote: