FicWad

Your hands came to me in the night. Your
hands, which I had held and
kissed and
touched but never owned, because you
wouldn't let me do your nails on nights
you wanted to go out for a change.
You'd put on your lipstick and nail-polish
and grin at me while I lay in bed
listening to Bach and trying
to be philosophical and you tried so hard
to be something neither of us were. Where
are you going now, hands?

Your eyes came to me in the night. Your
eyes, which I had watched and
loved and
cherished for their color, which I could not
appreciate with all my flaws. They looked
beautiful in my dreams, as I remember.
You'd flutter your lashes and roll
with your laughter as I recited my latest
findings on the manners of men in Pikes
Place during a storm that neither of us had ever seen. Where
are you hiding from me, eyes?

Your body came to me in the night. Your
body, which I had coveted and
lusted after and
never really thought I'd get to hold until you sat down
in my booth at McDonald's and said, "Can I try
a sip of your drink?
I saw you were mixing Dr Pibb with Raspberry
Lemonade. I think it would taste
just like your lips!" though you didn't know what
they tasted like. You laughed, and I blushed, and a week
later you were the one blushing, all the way from your
toes to the roots of your hair. Where
are your shadows and symmetry, body?

You came to me in the night. You
smiled, and I couldn't breathe or
blink or
even think, but it was a dream, as I remember.
We were in the library, me with my glasses and
you with your music loud so everyone
could hear it in the next aisle over. What
did you care for privacy and quiet? Where
are you now?