eros
something about them makes me long
in the sad, romantic way that i should know better than to fall for
the easy way they lie
legs wrapped like branches
arms circling
bodies pressing
a private sphere; that couch is their own
in the midst of so much that isn't
her face buried in his chest
he sleeps the way everyone likes to imagine they sleep
unsexual in their touch
(my favourite part)
but erotic in the purity
and me
sitting alone staring
and wondering why i can't stop