Storm Grove Press

By:
Lauren Armstrong



I love the idea of you

Touching my face before you kiss me
Running your hands down my neck
To understand the symmetry of my body
Firmly gripping my waist
Which fits into one of your hands

I love the idea of you

Talking to me as I look down onto you
Interweaving your fingers in my ribs
Allowing my breasts to touch yours
Without that being an invitation
But purely sensual

I love the idea of you

Wrapping your arms around me like a father
But holding me like a lover
Knowing both, and intimidated by neither

I love the idea of you

Looking at my body as beautiful
Because it is mine
Looking at me as something past sex
As a conversation, an intellect, a friend, a lover
A late night phone call about nothing at all