Written by Alexandra Josephine Ameel
Someday, I might kiss someone. Gently. With a smile on my lips.
This is where my fantasy ends. I imagine him leaning in, one hand on my face, the other on my waist, emptying the space between us. I watch myself pull away.
All I can think is no thank you.
Stop. Private property. No trespassing.
Please don’t mistake my hesitation as road work. I’m not under construction.
These delays aren’t temporary.
I’m waiting for him to realize that he’ll be waiting forever. He’ll never walk.
I’m familiar with the magnetic properties of two people in love, when veins fill with iron filings and shoulders and arms long to meet.
I know the feeling of hands intertwined, my palm a compass and his a north star.
Even so, some part of me must be broken, because never have I craved the warmth of someone’s skin without clothes in between.
I’ll sleep beside him, not with him.
I’ll bare my soul, not my body.
I’ll show him I love him in a million other ways,
but what if that’s not enough?
In almost every future,
I watch him leave.
To find someone
who won’t ask him
to hold back.
Someone else to touch.
But I can’t stop
myself from believing
that there must be one
where he stays.