ready to settle.

I am so sleepy tonight. Somehow after coffee and silly drinks and beer, my body is pliant, yet tense. A sensation of sore muscles, a pounding headache and loose limbs. The night is so quiet with occasional rain on a tin roof.

I wonder if you like me, as we sit over cheap beer at a wooden table. I wonder if I'm holding him back. In my quest to grow up, I still find myself (unsurprisingly) unsure. Children scare me, but deep down, I realize, if something were to happen, I'm not sure I could say no. I want to stop moving without reason. Moonlight shrouded in dark clouds. A peacefulness found in the silence.

Humming engines across the way, a chugging fullness in the dark. I forgot how to write.

You inspire stillness. Smoking and smiling in an empty room. We are encompassed by white walls and a lingering scent of onions, weed and the crisp night air. I am content in the glowing warmth of you. Conversation dissipates into the calm presence of two friends.

A thrill.

reflections of light.

It's cold and I miss you. Two very generic phrases that manage to speak volumes. My world feels a bit broken without you. At any minute of the day, I expect you to appear.

Hmm.

You're so golden.

For a moment, I broke from listening to play it through my head. What it would be like to reach over and unbutton your shirt. To sort of fall into you. And what then? Sometimes I don't know what to say, because I am so caught up in the thoughts I don't tell you. A rare occurrence, I suppose for me, to witness a vision of motions tied so closely to intimacy at such a random point.

ask her to dance.

I feel this pull towards you. Like the molecules inside me flurry about, drawn to orbit about you, closer to your presence.

You are my moon rock.

a door. a window. a way.

Sometimes I feel like a beggar for love. So much cajoling down on my knees only to realize, well, hmm, I am in this position because I made a conscious choice. I miss home. The uncertain status of the wanderer.

I am getting older...which is odd to realize at points. Like, I don't contemplate my age all too often, and in the grand scheme of things, I recognize I have quite a ways to go (barring any unforeseen tragedy...knock on wood.) I suppose I am a grown up doing grown up things, but this evening I longed for a night of poor life choices involving champagne. Shit is good, n'est-ce pas? Patience.

I just wish to be hazy for a little bit. A far awayness to play companion to being far away.

Would you dance with your eyes closed?

taut.

You're dancing in slow motion, throwing your hair back into darkness between the lights.

Swiss dots. Navy and white stripes slipping off the shoulder and skimming the tops of your thighs.

I miss denim cut offs, white shirts and ragged shoes slipped on.

slowly.

You asked me about the cold, and I told you the following in long sentences: Sometimes, I like it's ability to jar me into focus. It is so very tangible like the heat can be, but it can knock the air out of you, and infiltrate your lungs in a way that the heat never can.

Pictures of you as a little guy made me smile.

I can feel the uncertainty tug at me, and I'm trying to ignore the time that has passed since we left. Longer than I've known some of the people I'm closest to, and it's almost as if no word exists to describe the feeling in that realization.

Listing out the people I might have slept with. Under different circumstances, obviously. But, attraction at points is undeniable. Catching eyes that hold on. Or mouthing hidden words with exasperation. The sudden reveal shocking somehow still.

Beer warming slowly in a pint glass on the wooden table of a booth in a low-lit bar, the dregs in bottles abandoned, doubles sipped down.

And we just let it be.

I want to sing outloud to all the harmonies.

Wishing for us in the backseat of the car on the side of the road.