Is it the warmth of your skin?
Or the feeling I get in my heart when I lay my head on your shoulder?
Is it the magnet in my groin or the intrigue circling my brain?
Nothing makes me writhe like craving the person I've imagined you to be.
Possibly, it's the tally of memories we share.
Possibly, it's the sound of your voice softly caressing my ears.
Possibly, it's the hugs in which we choose not to let go for awhile.
Possibly, it's the way you make me laugh at myself.
Possibly, it's just you.
Then again, it could just be my imagination.
Is it a feeling like an orgasm: one that's wonderful, but fades fast?
Is it just a random accent note on the lines of an unfinished melody?
This has to disappear quickly like drawings in the sand,
(for this is just my imagination).
I don't look into your eyes and feel home,
I look into your eyes and know that I'm on an adventure.
There's a chance it's just because you're unavailable.
or because you don't exist.
or because you're already gone.
Either way I can still feel the blood pumping in and out of my heart.
Maybe that's just because I'm alive, though.
You'd probably clip my wings if we ever did tie a knot.
Then again, maybe this whole time I've been wrong about being a bird.
I may just be human. And there may not even be rope.
Don't take this so serious, though
(for this is just my imagination)
I may just be sailing alone on a clear day, capable of seeing everything in sight.
I still wonder what makes me linger, though.
Is it time between the sheets?
Is it the gentle lullaby I swear I hear when our lips are clasped together?
Is it just your ability to scoop up me and all my drama without fraying?
Is it that you're always interested in the nearest tail and it's never mine?
Maybe it's just the challenge of the kill in the end.
Then again, this could just be in my imagination.
Anyway, I think I can hear your persuasion ushering me to meet you in my dreams tonight.
I better get going or I might miss you.
