Wishful Thinking

You make me wish.

On this couch
We lay.
Your body rests
Beside mine
With your legs
Beautifully entangled
With mine.
One hand of yours
Grips mine;
There, I can feel your
Struggle to stay awake.
Gently,
I tickle your sides
With the fingernails
On my free hand.
The light
Slips through the window,
Casting shadows
So that I can barely see you
With the dimness of the room,
Yet I admire you
And your features anyway.
Just above the volume
Of a whisper,
We speak to each other
With pauses
To share kisses.
Somewhere inbetween
Those moments of
Contact between our lips
The words “I love you”
Are spoken;
Not from my mouth though.
I know I cannot
Return those words to you,
For I do not yet feel that way
And don’t approve of lying
About such strong feelings.
So instead I tell you truths
Of how happy I am.

And the more laughs we share,
And the more I look at you,
And the more I hear your voice,
And the closer we get,
The more this feels like a dream…
The more you feel like a simple
Character
From a too-perfect dream.
When will it all crash down upon me?
I hope never.