i can't stand it

i can't stand it. you near to me so close i can feel the warmth rising off your skin even though we're at the distance normal people keep from each other. we talk, or rather, you talk and my mouth moves trying to make sounds that seem normal, unlike the slush that is really my mind. i saw your skin peeking out from under clothing, i see your frame beneath the cloth. i force myself to be relaxed, force myself to sit back, to be cool. i'm not cool.

your too skinny arms and your too infectious laugh and voice punctuate the air. - punctuate? puncturing the air with holes, of movement and images. it's too much. to see what i can't have is too much too much too much too much. i feel weak and ill now.

a girl was frying breakfast in my flat. it's not often that a girl will be making breakfast instead of me. she said, let me, and i realised that i'd better. she stood there in the large dress pulled magically from the small bag she carried last night. i watched her. that frying pan isn't going to be the same anymore.

but it doesn't compare, sound of bacon frying and the new feel of morning, to one moment near those skinny arms and the attitude your bare feet take when you are relaxed. like a cat, you licked the sugar off the cake and i died.