All I want is to feel your hands sliding,
from my waist to the small of my back.
I want our eyes to touch,
as our mouths connect.
Things never work out like I want.
It seems like, no matter what it is,
the things I want are unimportant.
Small. Fleeting.
But this, I want. More than anything.
But, I know I can never have it.
I’m not brave enough to take the chance,
make the sacrifice. Tear things apart.
But then, neither are you.
So, while it might be what we want,
it isn’t what we need.
It isn’t love.
