Circumstantial

He doesn't like it when I wear a bra, and I don't like it when he wears a shirt. Our interest in each other is only circumstantial. I need to see his chest hair, and he needs to see my breasts move.

We always meet behind closed doors. We don't exchange any pleasantries until we are ready. The door closes and we stand a few paces apart. In silence we take off the layers. We have two hands between us when we embrace; my fingers buried in his fur, his palm cupping my breast.

A minute ago you couldn't have guessed the compassion, and now we are lovers. Without our layers we belong together.

If we end up in the midst of a crowd, he silently offers me his left pinkie, and I hook my right one into it. We don't face each other then. The objects of our interest are hiding beneath clothes and without desire we don't need to look.

He refuses to lose me as he matches his pace to mine. If he senses indifference loosening my pinkie around his, he reminds me that it won't be long till we reach privacy. Once he even took his shirt off on the ferry, he did it so I could recognize him. When asked why he said "I can dream but she forgets."

He can dream but I forget who he is. He can dream but I need to see him.

2012-09-15
© melekelif