I wanted to. Many times. But I didn’t.
Eye contact. It means you’re engaged.
Lack of eye contact. It means you’re not engaged.
But no, I swear, it was only because I got lost if I looked too long. Drowning I wouldn’t mind. And when I caught my breath, it was already you I was breathing. I had to be able to control something.
Body language. Turned towards you means you’re inviting.
Body language. Turned away from you means you’re uninviting.
But no, I swear, it was only because you were like an eclipse; too beautiful to look at. Too otherworldly to behold. And so far away from ever being able to touch.
The wood was aged and pressed with memories. Those two, I thought while thumbing the engravings, are they still together? And there, at the corner where the railings met, what about them? I wanted to leave our names there. They’re both unusual enough that we’d seem like we had invented them. Maybe we were faeries visiting this world for a day. Everything felt so whimsical. And you were too gorgeous to understand, like the drawings on your walls that you look to for inspiration.
You inspired me. But my hands were tied. The rope was drenched in kerosene, and the match was already lit. I was trying to be careful.
… Who am I kidding? You make me burn anyway.