Caressing on my hand,
soft, warm, leather-like;
thoughts of meadows and brooks
paint a landscape of sensations
on my skin.

Time, a round room with
a blowing breeze,
alone.

Pages turn creating wind,
cooling down a self-hate;

not wanted, not needed,
not here.

"Sorry I'm not in my mind right now,
call back later"

changes

"I'm better,
call all you want!"

I asked if I could tell you that
I loved you.
I asked if you would
hold my hand.
I asked why you
were smiling,
you just keep smiling
back.

I haven't asked if
I can trust you,
why ask a question
you already know?
I told you
that I love you,
what more is there to trust?

Absolute dread,
a moment when I can feel tension,
like a cat in the headlights of my eyes.

Closing in around me,
I can't seem to move or think
its takes over and will not relinquish its hold.

Fighting, almost like loving,
only strengthens its power
to overtake my mind with images of humilation.

Closer and closer still it comes,
What can I do but let it take me?
All it is
is a simple
kiss.