ronniek

Letter to an unrequited love:

I won't promise you forever.
I'm better at tomorrow
when I think sleeping in your arms
is only for tonight.

So let me lay with you
fully-clothed in inhibitions
like two strangers on a double-bed
who forgot to warm their fears
with liquor raindrops
from an iceberg bar
of dead-end kisses
and long goodbyes.

When we wake I may
look at you
as a stranger would;
familiar is too soon for us.
It feels like gym-class stares
on Monday afternoons.

I will not watch you dress.
It is an invitation
neither one of us
is ready for.

But I will walk you home,
brush the hair from your cheek
when you turn to say goodbye.
Try to hear the whisper in your ear;

for you should know
that I'm not asking you to love me.
I just want to hold your hand,
to kiss your eyelids
when you close them to pretend
that I'm the one you dream about.
I will be him for you.
I will let you love a memory.
I only ask that you will let me hold you
as though your breath on my neck
was never meant
for someone else.

Yours truly,

Still invisible
to you.