You tortured me with silence,
When it was you I needed most.
You plagued me with your wicked games,
When all I really wanted was peace.
You prodded me with your fingertips,
The ones I vividly remember trailing across my flesh, flames leaping in
their wake.
You seared me with those icy eyes,
The ones that had once held mine, full of alleged affection.
And your arms, so strong, so sure,
Draped over my shoulders,
A murmur of slight confusion frozen upon my lips.

Was I dreaming?
You leaned in, and asked me for a kiss.
Those eyes on my mouth, pursed in indecision.
I could not have felt more shameful; temptation clenched my heart.
I knew better than to cede to it, bending against it I would not.
So I slipped away, a murmured apology on my lips.
Did I promise you that next time I would bow to you?
You moved away stealthily,
Seemingly unfazed.

I began to walk, deciding not to dwell.
And (it seemed) an instant later, I was alone with you again.
I must have given off signals,
But I assure you I did not intend.
You reached forward, hands straying to where I once thought they belonged.

I could not see my own face,
But I’m sure my lips parted in meager protest,
Another murmur, this of protest, fading on my lips.
I took your hand and moved it away, stepping from your reach.

We parted later, your hand lingering on my back, fingertips catching on
mine.
You waved goodbye to me, and I to you,
A murmur of promise on my lips.









 
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