If you want me, push me against a wall and kiss my mouth. If we’re sitting together on a bench or in the grass, casually slide your hands under my shirt and let me feel your warmth on my back. Let my hands guide your fingers where I want them to go, and never take your eyes from mine the whole time.
If you want me, show me by the way your fingers play with mine whenever our hands brush together. Give me inviting looks and let your eyes fit entire speeches into the seconds between our conversation.
If you want me, don’t let someone else take me away. Smile at me each chance you get, and touch my shoulder every now and then.
If you want me, wait until the moment when my eyes seem distant and my face looks blank; come up behind me and whisper all the things you’d want me for. Right there and then, I’ll decide if I want you too.
“I record my life, sifting and trying to separate what is real from what I’ve dreamed. I have decided not to tell you what is fact versus what is unfact primarily because (a) I am giving you a portrait of the essence of me. come with me, reader.
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