Sliding Doors

Sometimes you can smell it 

From the pores, 

In just the right amount of proximity 

This desire, a naughty thing 

To be close 

To be felt 

To be dangerously understood 

The fight for intimacy is clawing 

An angry thing screaming for softness 

So loud, so insistent that 

Sometimes you dare 

For a look, a conversation, a tether 

Signaled in kind eyes yet 

Often a false alarm 

In that moment of recoup, a decision 

To grow harder

Or to allow a momentary love 

A gesture with no place to land 

So where a fluorescent might be harsh

Dim the light, like an outstretched hand 

Even if fingers never touch