Nightcrawler’s Hands
At first, a graze
Your pinkie against mine
In an elevator
As we walked to the 1 train
It felt electric but unsteady
What was it supposed to mean?
The next day you took my chin
Into your hand
Your skin was warm, but rough
You asked how I could be this pretty
Fingers wrapped around my jaw bone
Just a bit too tightly
I think I was flattered
But your stardom cast a shadow
Isn't pretty a word for little girls?
I was 23 and you were 35
My chest was tight that first night
You invited me upstairs
You'd been feeling stressed
And the director told me to help
For the show, she said
Everyone wanted to please him
So I should want that too
Your hands gripped me above the waist
Thumbs digging into my hip bones
As you breathed heavily into my ear
"I've wanted to do this for so long"
It'd only been nine days
Your hands worked their way up
Ravenous, searching for something
I wasn't sure that I could give
They seemed so large in that moment
As if they could press against my face
Smother me and make me disappear
I would've welcomed it
We met on the stage of your show
You a film actor turned Broadway star
Me an intern wanting to use my own hands
To create something new
But I keep them in my pockets now
And clench them into fists
Meltdown
My deepest darkest shit that I don't tell a soul is ...
I love women with sexy feminine voices and ways, I melt like butter, but because I can't tell which women are gay or straight, I don't say a word and melt all over.
I don't have the balls to ask her if she get down like that. So like a punk I just smile it off. I have been single for a year, because my punk ass won't say anything to women that melt my being. Danggggggggggg. LMAO :)