Aquamarine Nerves

Cool fingertips rest on the lap.
Unsure.
Think about it, are they shaking?
They're not moving, but are they pulsing?

He's good, but does he know?
He's breathtaking, but is he breathing?

Letter three, and twenty three... about seven or forty times a day,
it crosses, multiplying above my head.
Letters, these forms of two dimensional life,
make the heart in my body
go pitter-patter.
The heart in my body is his.
He loves it, but will he take it?

Wearing down,
the tread?
the rhythm?
the days 'til love
breaks apart every nerve you have left?
Wearing down of a smile?
Wearing down of fear?
The wearing of a smile?
The smile that renders me weak?
Blush? Melt?
Yes.
The one that creates possibility.
Accept all answers
with a nod, and a questioning smile.
I won't speak, but keep asking
with ocean eyes.
Do I wear you down?
With my letters?
With my eyes?
Or can I cook you dinner?

which is it?







xo, bex.


---------------------------------