when she smiled at me across the too long couch i cannot help but wonder at the subtle differences between need, desire and obsession

she is a summer storm that runs across my every thought, my every dream, my every waking moment of exquisite shattered loneliness

she reassembles me, only to break me apart in equal motions of lust and longing, discarded to spin away into the ink black void of anxious emptiness

but, here in the quiet moment between bouts of insanity and coherence, she smiles at me from the opposite end of the too long couch

i allow myself to spiral farther down inside the silent vacuum of her indifference, bombarded by moments of blissful acknowledgement like crumbs

hoping to follow the trail back to the cozy comfort of her heart’s embrace, rather than another night of hellspite to boil at the edges of emotion