Blink

I'm starting off by posting things I've already written in times past. They won't be chronological, because they're all in a mess thrown about my computer in odd places. But here's one I wrote a couple years ago.

Blink

Apparently now's the time,
Now, when I have an hour to cram work in before it's due
Now, when I'm sitting in class, twiddling my thumbs
Now, when my friends are impatiently waiting for me to straighten my hair and get the fuck out the door
Now's the time to think of you.
Those lips...
Those soft, full, beautiful lips that part to form the brightest smile
Or the silliest, most unsexy smirk.
Why, in days apart, does my every inch crave the way you treat it, my hands and mouth trembling sometimes, dreaming of making your fingers curl up in my sheets or
those same fingers
gently pushing between
my own
in a sweet, secret embrace
underneath the movie seats.

It will pass, I know, as all things do.
Soon I'll look into those big brown eyes and the flash behind them will have disappeared, that hint of do-me-later, that bit of you're-mine-only that sometimes flies from your eyes to mine across a room of unsuspecting strangers.
Soon your lips will be as any other lips, just there for opening wide to stuff in a big sandwich and for closing tight when you've spoken too much.
Soon your skin will be to hold all the other stuff inside,
and your hands will be for picking up pencils that drop on the floor, and your voice will be for communicating only.
But for now! every bit of you lingers in slow-to-fade visions of the sweet and the sexy, visions that dance on the inside of my eyelids, there to taunt me not only in sleeping, but with every.
single.
blink.