You asked me if I wanted to be liberated,
and I just waited for you to make a decision.
Your blue eyes bore into me,
and I begged myself not to be boring.
It’s all over, but the dreaming.
Judgement comes, and I am wandering, wanting,
weaving all these words together to say “I want you”, and hoping that the dreams will not desert me.
You looked at me,
nervous fingers twitching with strands of my hair,
a dreamer’s lips, latched between her teeth, to keep them from spilling,
by chance, by design, by surprise,
the dream came to pass,
captured in a kiss,
and your decision was made.