We are just a passing thought to one another

I'm thinking of you when the ocean licks my feet. In my memories, I am still wet with your kisses.

In another life, we would have been lovers or friends too close for comfort. We still could be but you rang out from across the room and braced yourself against a doorjamb pretending not to look, feigning interest in a passing cloud.

In this life, we are nothing but a shared glance across the room and I know you know it too.

When your hand grazes my face in the dark of the night I close my eyes pretending not to notice. It's enough for me to know that your fingers fit so perfectly on my cheekbone while only half-remembered words flutter from my lips.

In this life, I kiss the ocean alone and wonder what you are doing. You do not touch me anymore but there is salt left on my skin and your fingerprints burned an everlasting memory into my loins.

I hate writing about us because we're never going to happen... All I have is that photograph of me standing with my face to the ocean and thinking of you.

In this life, we are nothing but a shared glance across the room and I know you feel it too. And when our hands touch me in the dark of the night, I close my eyes pretending not to notice.

In my life, I kiss the ocean and wonder what you are doing. I'm thinking of you when the ocean kisses my feet. In my memories, I am still wet with your kisses.

. . .

Thank you. You can read my other Vocal stories here.