Indecisive Night

Indecisive Night

You have no idea
And it hurts, that
You are too close.
The tentacles of
Our presences whip
Every cell awake.
You fake nonchalance,
Looking ahead, face
Steeling, emotions
Caught in a traffic jam,
Perhaps It's the cold?
Then, concrete silence -
Perhaps it will breed
Intimacy? I can't
Decide, I only dare steal
Looks at you. Men have
A streak in breaking things:
Silence is only but
One of them; another
Is distance – the shorter
It is, the further you want
To be. And we should be
From different planets,
But yet you are too close,
In a short trip your
Supple fingers send
The breeze in your perfumed
Hair into my pressed face,
My only escape route
From love's claws – oh,
How they are despised
And desired - thinly spreads
Before your bended knees
Into the night looming
Indecisiveness, through
The crowded bus.

P.S.: Now, where did that come from, I wonder. Poetry is amazing, isn't it?