San Rafael Summer

I can feel the stairs emerging in the dark. I simply need to climb them.

What does one do with attraction? It is not simply easily hidden. My eyes glow in it. My cells submerge in the longing of another. And I simply cannot breathe within my self. And, after a few clear cups of wine and half a biting ashy bitter beer later, seated warmly and close upon a leather couch, black and sunken in, he caught me.

How blue did my eyes twinkle then. Did a pink blush flourish over my cheek? My lips wouldn’t let a smile pass. They pressed, gated, tilted, nervous.

You exposed me. In your tallness.

What on earth do I do with this? How quietly hidden are the intentions in your large dark eyes? For being brown, they appear to harbor quite a lot. I cannot figure you out. And, sir, I am trying.

Awkward. Tall. Sweet. Vulgar. Embarrassing. Crass. Conflicting. With a smile and gentle hands.

You spoke plainly to me. And I am yet at a loss of what to say in return.