Messy, Simple Things

I am begging to give in

to how the air seems to still,

every time we playfully threaten to part ways.

Somehow even the atmosphere

is familiar with the way we tease.

Both of us know, I’ll stay

a few more hours, at least until sunlight grazes our faces.

You don’t want me to leave

and if I’m going to be alone in my room,

I’d rather be with you.

Strawberry kisses stain

your cheeks and I’m laughing

at the way you dance with me.

Promise you’ll keep that smile,

on for me boy.

I could be saying,

I’m seeing somebody.

You could be lying,

about who you spent the weekend with.

None of that,

seems to matter in the space

we exist in.

We play with something undefined

and neither one of us is talking

because everyone else is

doing that for us.

See into my eyes, hear from them

the feelings my tongue trips up on.

I don’t want to lose this.

We make a mess of it.

Come on and be my hand to hold.