gloves
my hands are making little fists while they remember your hands and how they felt when i held them on a day that seems like yesterday, and will forever seem like yesterday. my mind pouring a rush of words on to paper later wondering what it would be like to kiss your face again. i can’t keep up with conciousness enough to build the stream but i know what i think, and its about you. i have to know that you’re okay with holding my hand, even if its only when we’re alone together and you have to know that i’m comfortable with hiding our interlocked hands as long as it means holding you. i have all of these questions that i pose in so many unecessary words but i spent so much time asking questions expecting no answer or at least no positive one to come out of my guessing and now i get the chance to second guess. i’m glad, i’m glad, i’m glad. i’ve wanted you for a long time and if i can’t have that on a crowded bus where we’re tired and i’m wondering what it would be like to see you sleep and you are wondering what it would be like to finally sleep again then i will settle for doubting you, at least i’m touching you. even if i have to wear gloves.