I am afraid of this.
You touch me like soft pillows meet sleeping cheeks,
tired souls that meet resting seats,
I hide my face so our eyes don’t meet.
I am afraid to look into you.
I mute every other voice to hear you speak,
yet I can’t quiet my mind that says that
it’s all a lie, it being the things you say and the way
you treat me.
For once, this control that I keep;
Keeps me from accepting this uncontrollable titillation
that comes over me.