RELATIONSHIP Poem: steady hands (a t4t love poem), by Ashton Gibson

i want to paint your nails.
to hold your hand so tightly in mine,
i whisper softly to be still and you obey me without question.
the air is thick with the chemical scent of nail polish and the ache i feel for you.
i can feel your pulse beneath my fingertips, the closer i lean in, the more rapid it becomes.
i have spent so l o n g studying those hands of yours, i could count how many lines run across your palms- tracing them, individually with my tongue.

concentrating hard, i run the pink polish over, you melt beneath my touch and your breath hitches in your chest.
how can i focus on this task? her palms are so soft as she grows harder in my lap.
i mustn’t let my eyes linger too long on your lips, i will myself to keep calm, my steady hands gripping yours maybe just a little too tightly.
i know what you want. but patience is a virtue, sweet girl.
and now,
you cannot touch me.
not because i do not long for you,
but because your nails are drying.

although i wake the next day with magenta streaks on my inner thighs from your impatient wandering hands.
and just like a freshly painted masterpiece,

you are wet beneath my touch long after the polish has dried.

-a.g