Stirring

At this hour, I stir.

I only want you when I can’t have you.

Every moon, I lay beneath it, awake in my sheets

“What is she thinking about?”

It is at this hour that I think entirely about you.

Stirring.

We can hold hands, I guess

But only for 37 seconds

I can still smell you on my pillow case

I only want you when I can’t have you

Lying tangled up, stroking skin with fingertips

My restless mind wants to leave, but only after you beg me to stay

At this hour, I see the night in you

The dark, the breeze, the cicadas sing

You were everything

But that’s not who I needed you to be

Two sewn as one

Taking the seam ripper to us time and time again

I only want you when I can’t have you

Your contradictory

Your uncertainty

Wasn’t I supposed to be the one leading you on?

At this hour I can’t possibly articulate how you felt

Maybe like the constant urge to flip over when trying to fall asleep

Nothing can be too comfortable for too long,

At this hour

I only want you when I can’t have you

The night has her hold on me

Remember when we used to drink whiskey?

But only at this hour.

My swallows are sandpaper but the glass on the nightstand is empty.

I only want you when I can’t have you.

It is at this hour that I want you to think of me, the way I linger in your sheets

I’m a tease

A bore

A decision that never gets made

At this hour, I hope you stir.