About the Sunsets

For all the minutes around the touch

There are easy ways
to want a man.

His mouth.
His hands.
The weight of him
when he forgets
to be careful.

I know those kinds
of wanting.

The dangerous ones
are quieter.

Your voice
when it loses its polish.

That small laugh
when neither of us
knows what to say next.

The way you stand
behind me
and somehow my body
forgets the mathematics
of distance.

Some nights
you are far away.

Some nights
I could swear
I feel your warmth
against my back.

And perhaps
that is what caught me
off guard.

I want the touch,
the mouth,
the hands.

Of course I do.

But I want
the minutes around them too.

To sit beside you
with nowhere else to go.

To watch
some borrowed sunset
until we stop talking.

To turn my head
and find you
already looking.

To stay there
long enough
that silence becomes
something we are doing
together.

Maybe that is
the intimacy
I didn’t see coming.

Wanting you
even when
nothing is happening.

— K