We Are Impossible

This chemistry
What did we do
Your languages
Your love
Your laughter
And those warm arms all turn me on
In ways that feel sinful
I can't
I can't believe I love you
Like this
"Stay single for awhile"
I'll never say it
I'm gonna take this to the grave
Not cuz I'm ashamed
But because I can never handle
You saying
"I don't see you that way"
The sober magic
Truth is
I wanted that beer so I could tumble
Into your arms even longer
I'm so sorry to admit it
Because it's wrong
My body begs
But I don't want to fuck you
I wanted to grab your face and kiss you
Once I shut the door
I wanted your hands on me
Exploring waistbands
My blushing
We're both veterans in this millennial sex game but shy virgins now
A dual-fantasy
Half-OC and half-anime
If you take off my clothes
Do it slow
If it happens
I want it to last
Since you and me both like to get it done fast
It could feel like it wasn't happening
We could pretend this isn't as impossible as we are
I stopped calling you Kuya cuz it's not right
You care for me but we're too close
The same vices
We're a different kind of family
And another shameful confession is
I fantasized about starting a family with you
On a plane 11 days ago
I had a suspicion
I thought it would die
Especially when I cut myself open
Read you my imperfections like a playwright
Didn't think you'd hold my weight against your shaking legs
Or give me your hand as we
Laughed and ran like children
Down an infinite
Underground streetcar
What did we do
Your puns
Your faces
Your undivided attention
And perfect friendship
Is making me fall in love
I wanted
Your nose on my neck
Your teeth on my skin
Pecking gently
Softer than I do to my keyboard
Don't tell me you love me
Don't tell me this is so wrong
I want the impossible
This is a fantasy
My ad campaign
"20 floors up and love all around"
I thought it was all for attention
I didn't know
Your lovely home
I called my own
During the best week of my life
Would burn itself into my
Impenetrable mind
The first time since the ravine house
Where I got fucked on a windowsill
At 19
You're making me whole
And careless again
We're impossible
But maybe this fantasy
Is exactly what both of our tired souls need
And now I'm fucked
Cause you know how ticklish I am

© Mary dela Torre, 2016