what makes someone desirable? is my question as I stare into the glass, running the toothbrush in circles over my teeth, foam around my swollen lips. it’s been four minutes since you drove away.
tonight we sat and talked in between phone calls, the light golden on our tired faces. there were occasional touches, a chair pulled close, an opening up of something, of the past, maybe the present. but mostly I enjoyed being next to you, being your friend.
you told me you couldn’t have this relationship with other girls, and I agreed, sitting in the passenger seat as you drove me home in the quiet darkness.
I wondered about the girls you’d written notes to, the ones you spoke first to, the girl you really loved way back when. and there is no regret, only a curiosity inside me. what makes someone desirable?
Curious about what you see when you look at me because I think the others share your eyes. and why do I want to be desired anyway. Curious and circular my mind. I don’t push it, whatever it is. it’s only the night–the cold air and the visible breath, golden street lights, drunk men, your hoodie, your car, your disjointed words and thoughts, your eyes on me, your eyes turned away, turned inward, your regret, your not wanting to be comforted by me, the softening of edges, the opening up of something, the closing, the driving away, the driving away, the quick goodnight, and now the toothbrush, circles, foam, staring into glass, and my question still,
what makes someone desirable?