Work Text:
He is striking the match/
/ He is pinching it between his fingers.
/ Guarding the flame with his hand
like a sacred hearth/
/The center of the match flares blue.
[I want those hands to guard my heart.
I want those finger to hold me
Like I am a small delicate blue flame
Even if I am 5’11”
Mostly shoulders and knees]
He takes a deep drag/
/ He takes a deep long drag and pulls all that smoke up inside him.
/ Inhales it like its bitter bitter medicine.
[If I was a cigarette
Would you
Light me up
Like something that
Could fix you? ]
You smoke that cigarette
The same way I’ve seen you smoke every cigarette:
Like it hurts.
[ Like a little old man.]
[The same way I’m sure
since you were eight.]
Your eyes are down cast,
your lashes hide your deep dark eyes
under your deep dark brows
under your deep dark curls.
I wait:
maybe you will look at me,
like you do sometimes,
and my heart will freeze.
And maybe this time I will ask you- this time for sure.
I will ask you to touch me in all the ways your
hands like to gesture when you talk.
This time.
For sure.
This time.
Just look up.
Just see me
wanting
to fit between your fingers like that.