Dangerous

Sometimes, having the gift of words can be a disadvantage.
Puns, double entendres, metaphors, similes --
These flow from my tongue
With the ease of a drawl from the lips of a Southern man.
I have used such figurative language for so long
That I now find it almost
Impossible
To say exactly what I mean.

What if I was to say,
"I didn't know how much I had been missing you
Until seeing you now, after all these years" --
Instead of, "We'll stay in touch, you hear?"

What if I was to say,
"Looking at you now is like looking at you then,
When I was fifteen and you were seventeen,
And our worlds were no longer and wider
Than the road that separated our houses" --
Instead of "Remember the time...?"

What if I told you that you bring summer back to me?

What if I told you that,
Sitting here now,
On this couch,
I wanted you to lean towards me,
One hand braced on either side of my shoulders,
Lean so closely that I could imagine the feel of
Your lips,
Your chest,
Lean so closely that I could smell your familiarity,
So close but not touching...

Dangerous.