ຸ@arjmxrell
Not all secrets are bad.
Some people just can't be together. So you smirk at me from across the room and move your baseball cap up to see me better, and your hidden grin holds a mischief that is only my secret to know.
In an elevator, you pretend to ask me a very, very important question when really you just don't wanna see me go.
But one day we finally don't care as you ask me to sit next to you. Two packed lunches kiss between us and words, we can only exchange a few.
I get a message right after that I have to dim my screen to read. I think you've ruined lunches for me because eating together daily now isn't a want, but a need.
I needed to see you, and now I just wanna go home because you're a vacation in a person.
Now I'm just sitting at work alone and I'm hit with this giddy excitement, mixed, poisoned with this horrible dread, thinking of all the destructive paths where love, for me, has always led.
But a couple of days later on your only day off, you ask me what I'm doing and I say reading, finally getting over this annoying cough.
And you say, "How about we read together? I'll pick you up in 15."
Then we end up at this café and I take a picture of the prettiest man that up until then I had ever seen.
In the picture you're reading. You underline a quote. You show me and I give you a poem inspired by the annotation you just wrote.
We're sitting in front of each other so your knees hug mine. If love was beneath a tightrope, I'm walking on a very, very, very thin line.
And nobody knows really, ever imagines that it could be true, that your voice replays in my head like a stupid, stupid podcast where my favorite guest is always you.
