A way or the other.

It kills me not to talk to you.
I want to.
I think you do to.
I want nothing from you,
nothing 'cept some free time.
on your schedule.

And perhaps to take off your dress...
feel the warmth of skin against
skin.

See who you are, listen to
your stories.
But.
Your words are abstract to me.
I wish I knew

what you were up to
and wouldn't have to feel like
an ass,
to get hold of you.

So instead, I bite my tongue;
alakazam myself to sleep
every night.

And keep my, your,
digits off the
screen.

Just wish I knew,
one way or the other.
Instead of just guessing
that it was the former.

I don't care about the
rest.
I can come on too strong.
But I have a sweet song to sing,
I just wish it were up to your
ear, in it's wistfulness and to watch
(to watch!) your eyes do that thing

That I've never, ever, seen before.