It's weird
I never saw your eyelashes before.
I guess it's more like
I didn't notice them until now,
too much to look at, and to take in,
all at once.
I move to the right,
to the left,
your ears as well.
Always hiding.
Let me see them,
as prominent as the ink buried under your skin.
I always thought you were beyond us
like our cigarette smoke, mixed with fog,
which feels like water but tastes like air,
stuck between here and somewhere else.
Water not yet brave enough to fall.
My mind ponders about the moisture,
and how if I press hard enough
my fingers leave white dots across your breast,
which leads to other thoughts that always escape.
I stare up at the street lamps,
as a strategy to make sure of so many things.
I saw you smile in my periphery,
you saw mine below my nose.
I'd rather glide my fingers across your collarbones
than fuck you from behind.
I'll pull the sheets to our shoulders
and fool ourselves to sleep.