I was taught to love without intimacy,
To admire without touching
Even though he wanted me to.
I always saw it as degeneracy
To act on the impulse, he was trusting,
But I didn’t trust myself to love you.
I wanted our skin to touch, breath to mingle,
All of that and more. I stopped just short
And was alone with my regret.
It didn’t really matter, I said, it’s sinful
And I’ll leave it at that. It is what it is not,
Right now it doesn’t matter. I’ll forget.