July 10, 2018 § Leave a comment
It is nothing; ignore the hints
the way my laugh follows yours,
how I watch your mouth as you speak,
and when you have caught me
reaching toward you, attempting to sneak
a trailing touch on your hair
so near to your neck, ear, and cheek.
Nothing comes of a hidden thought
of a secret whispered to no one else,
the boundary lines kept seemingly neat
a certain thing of clear intent
and if I’m sitting at your feet
when close to you, with hopes kept close
it is nothing; it is sweet.