are we all afraid of love? are we all afraid of the vision, of its scape, of its forefront, of its detail, of its grime, of its mystery, of its torture, its mouthwatering beauty?
are we all afraid to undress, to return, to unravel, to choose nudity?
are we all afraid to open new jars, to crack eggs, to break plates, to check expiration dates?
are we all afraid to watch movies, to reach for blankets on top shelves, to hear popcorn in the microwave, to lean into a familiar frame, to be embraced when barefaced?
are we all afraid to sleep over, to have dreams, to lose them and not miss their scenes, to anticipate his scent instead, his hands, his routine?
are we all afraid of the family, to meet them, to love his little sister and nearly crack beneath his mother’s gaze… a gaze that holds you, to see every childhood photo, to feel the carpet in the bedroom that saw his earliest years between your toes?
are we all afraid of vacations, to stand side-by-side in security lines, to rest our head on a lover’s shoulder, to sit in plastic chairs and share snacks at your gate, to get lost in a city and not care because he’s there and smiling and laughing and catching every inkling of your scared before it can become?
are we all afraid of music, of finding out his favorite songs, knowing the one he hoped to hear at prom, knowing the one that reminds him of you, ones he keeps coming back to and chasing for that damn melody because the sky opens when he hears it? but now there’s you, opening his sky.
are we all afraid of forgetting, of forgetting the texture of his wet hair, how he retrieves eggshells from the bowl, his first touch in the morning before it travels, the curves in your name when he writes it, when you can see your name in his mouth before he says it because his eyes always change, always soften?
are you afraid of the you that he’ll keep, the secrets in his phone, understanding every expression, every dip in your tone, every tilt of your head, knowing the people you’d rearrange your day for, the trees you watch through every season, the real meanings behind your tattoos, the words that empty your head, the words that part your legs?
are we all afraid? are we all praying? are we all awake and in bed? are we all in between something? are we all gripping too tightly? are we all soaking, drenched, towels around our necks? are we all pierced? are we all itchy? are we all wide-eyed? are we all suppressing? did we all scream in our cars? are we all high off caffeine? are we all pretending this could be enough? are we all supplementing? are we all afraid because what we want isn’t just known but existing in our eye lines? are we all afraid that we won’t feel anything when we try to touch it? are we all fucking afraid?
