The tall brunette tries not to let me see her eyes walk up and down me as she hasn’t decided whether to let the walls drop or build them higher.
She tells me I am shorter than she remembers and then waits for me to say it doesn’t matter if we’re lying down.
I remain silent as I am not bothered by any of this, not because I am still taller than her but because silence is my best tool.
She knows I can carry a conversation by myself if I feel like it and also knows I am capable of being stone silent for days.
We’re both posturing and dancing in a circle around the other, anxious to tear down the walls but concerned about the outcome if we do.
Funny to think how quickly we can fall in and out of routines.
When she turns away I take full advantage of not being seen and let my eyes stroll up and down.
Better Together Or Apart
During the moments of separation there are internal discussions about whether we are better together or apart.
Conversations in which we work to convince ourselves that together isn’t a good idea because it has hurdles and challenges that fantasy is best left as fiction.
Those work until the moments in which life intersects and conversation with eye contact resumes. There is a level of comfort and ease that is so deep we don’t notice it, but others do.
They remark upon it and ask how such a thing is and we laugh.
In the embrace of the midnight hours I think about that level of comfort and how rare it is, recognizing this is what it is when we are partially guarded, imagine what it is like when we let the walls down.
You could stick us in a closet or on an island and come back in a month and we would be ok because we like and maybe even still lust each other.
It is the lust part that keeps things interesting.
She tries not to discuss or acknowledge it, we suspect because it is like Pandora’s box.
It is a nice idea, except the box was opened long ago. We know what touch can do, especially when you don’t have to think about it.
Natural connection works.
We might too.