Sweet Games

The way our eyes catch at the corners.
As we pass.
I love that you are nameless.
An apparition; still of my own design.
I feel your eyes like sunshine on my shoulders.
Do you also feel mine? Gazing.
The way I watch you from adjacent angles.
Darting. Scandalously.
Watch your hips roll away like perfect waves.
Purple dress magnetic sweet spot.
The linger of a smile on your lips.
Falling from a laugh. Still lingering.
Your dark hair, at the shoulders.
Your elegant stride.
Makes my chest thump.
Makes my veins glow.
Still sailing on the feeling of thievery.
Venturing into a beautiful aphrodisiac,
What soft whispers, under the breath,
said in passing.
What thoughts tucked away, hidden beneath appearances.
We stalk each other. Like a sunrise. Slow, growing intensity.

I know our mouths would love to greet each other.
With an embrace.
Accidentally, on the stairs at midnight.
Accidentally, on your balcony - steal a kiss.
I imagine you taste like dark chocolate and petite sirah.
A revelation to the tongue.
My senses howl at the thought of it.
At the thought of you.

Let your irises find mine again tomorrow.






Andrew Tipton