I need you.
Not politely.
Not from a distance.
I want the kind of closeness
that makes self-control feel like a losing game.
I want you standing behind me,
close enough that I can feel your warmth,
close enough that one small movement
could erase every inch between us.
I want the way you look at me
when you know exactly what you're doing.
That slow glance.
That almost-smile.
That pause before you come closer.
I want your hand finding my waist,
holding me there just long enough
to make me wonder whether you're going to let go.
I want you close enough
that your breath becomes distracting,
your voice becomes dangerous,
and every innocent touch
starts feeling like a promise.
I want your lips against mine
slow,
deliberate,
teasing enough
to leave me wanting more.
I want to forget what I was about to say
because you're standing too close
and looking at me like that.
I want the tension between us
to become impossible to ignore.
The lingering eye contact.
The almost-touch.
Your fingers brushing mine
and neither of us pretending
it was accidental.
I want you to pull me closer
until there is nowhere left
for the tension to hide.
And afterward,
I want us forehead to forehead,
breathing softly,
smiling like we both know
exactly how close we came
to losing our composure.
I don't want something careless.
I want the dangerous kind of tenderness
where desire and affection
become impossible to separate.
I want to feel wanted.
Not accidentally.
Not temporarily.
Deliberately.
I want to be the thought
that distracts you during the day,
the memory that returns at night,
the person you find yourself wanting
a little closer every time.
Because I don't just want your attention.
I want your eyes on me
like you can't quite look away.
I want your arms around me
like letting go
is the last thing you want to do.
And I want that unbearable little space
between us to disappear
slowly,
deliberately,
until neither of us
wants it back
Not politely.
Not from a distance.
I want the kind of closeness
that makes self-control feel like a losing game.
I want you standing behind me,
close enough that I can feel your warmth,
close enough that one small movement
could erase every inch between us.
I want the way you look at me
when you know exactly what you're doing.
That slow glance.
That almost-smile.
That pause before you come closer.
I want your hand finding my waist,
holding me there just long enough
to make me wonder whether you're going to let go.
I want you close enough
that your breath becomes distracting,
your voice becomes dangerous,
and every innocent touch
starts feeling like a promise.
I want your lips against mine
slow,
deliberate,
teasing enough
to leave me wanting more.
I want to forget what I was about to say
because you're standing too close
and looking at me like that.
I want the tension between us
to become impossible to ignore.
The lingering eye contact.
The almost-touch.
Your fingers brushing mine
and neither of us pretending
it was accidental.
I want you to pull me closer
until there is nowhere left
for the tension to hide.
And afterward,
I want us forehead to forehead,
breathing softly,
smiling like we both know
exactly how close we came
to losing our composure.
I don't want something careless.
I want the dangerous kind of tenderness
where desire and affection
become impossible to separate.
I want to feel wanted.
Not accidentally.
Not temporarily.
Deliberately.
I want to be the thought
that distracts you during the day,
the memory that returns at night,
the person you find yourself wanting
a little closer every time.
Because I don't just want your attention.
I want your eyes on me
like you can't quite look away.
I want your arms around me
like letting go
is the last thing you want to do.
And I want that unbearable little space
between us to disappear
slowly,
deliberately,
until neither of us
wants it back
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