Sometimes Crying Or Laughing Are

Sometimes I See Him As Just Another Person, And Sometimes I Feel The Sight Of Him In My Gut, Like A Deep Ache.

He Moves His Thumb In A Slow Circle Over The Back Of My Hand. It Is Meant To Comfort Me, But It Frustrates Me Instead. I Need To Talk To Him. I Need To Look At Him.

In That Moment I Know Exactly What I Want; I Want To Peel Away All The Layers Of Clothing Between Us, Strip Away Everything That Separates Us, The Past And The Present And The Future.

Sometimes It Isn't Fighting That's Brave, Its Facing The Death You Know Is Coming.

Maybe I Was Afraid To Trust Him With Something So Personal As My Devotion.