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sicker the next time though. sick like death kissed you first thing in the morning. sick enough that i could see the backs of your sinuses through the dark circles under your eyes. if i could have gathered you up and nursed you back to health i think i would have been happy.
i never could get close enough to properly fall in love with you. after all, you are famous. boy did i fawn though. i watched you from far away and smiled as beguiling as i could. it never was really enough, not to work on you, because you were famous and i wasn't.
it must've been some magic working in my life to bring you to my door in the middle of the night. i thought i could have won the lottery if i'd just bought a ticket. laying next to you was nothing like i'd dreamed.
so thin your bones kept me awake in the night. breathing giggles maybe in dreams. and your hands wandering up under my shirt and i felt self conscious because i was falling in love, that way i always do, dizzy and sick-making, and not really love but not really lust, either. i'd regret fending you off in the morning.
so we shared another night, a strange night, if only i'd had the courage to kiss you and let my eyes shoot open in pure shock, maybe you'd think i'd brought something from a dream into bed with you. you'd brought something from a dream into bed with me, anyway.
your hands were so warm around mine. warm enough to melt away january and i couldn't have felt less awkward in that moment, couldn't have felt less aware of every grain of who you are. we shared strange philosophy, drunk and flying, and when you pressed your palm to mine i really, truly wondered, for the first time, how we could not become one. why we did not. after all, we were thinking the same anyway, i didn't even have to finish my thought and your skin was touching mine and you were nodding like it was me reading your mind.
but you were too sick in the morning, too sick to share more secrets, you wouldn't let me go and i had to go so it wouldn't seem like i was the one laying there calling out your name. i was glad when you felt better but wished you didn't and didn't have to go.
so now i know your smell and i've got that sweet sick feeling every time i think of you. i wish i could describe how you smell. or the soft of your skin under the pad of my thumb when i thought i should probably stop touching you but you were curled so sweetly against me and boy your skin is so soft, it's surprising.
i could probably get you out of my head if i tried, but all i can think is dreaming of you, and all my wishing won't bring you to my door tonight. i wish we'd done something we'd both regret and shared kisses we could deny in the morning. no one would have to know.