Our boots bumping together, under the table...
You go over my rings, I hold your wrists.
You take a sip, I time my sip to meet yours.
You look, and I love your eyes, and how you lock them with mine.
We get awkward together. At the same time.
Sitting across from you, I trace you with my eyes.
You get moody, and I accept your mood as a smile.
You drift to somewhere else, and I ask to go with you.
You need your space, and I love that about you.
Thinking, you tell me you might hurt me. I say I'm real.
I will take it, because it's from you.
You are sly, and it fills my mind with possibilities.
When you don't want, I wait.
When you want, I'll stay.
I found a broken step yesterday. I thought of your boots stepping over the cracks.