Unrequited Confession

it's in her feet - small, perfectly formed,
strapped in black sandals, swaddled in thin
nylons.... I want to touch her feet, to know
if they are as soft as they look.
Even if they are callused, I'd love
to touch them.

it's in her eyes when she smiles - so bright
they warm me to my core. I want to see her smile at me,
to see her blue green eyes shining on me,
her lips turned up as light pours through
and her smile makes life suddenly worth it.

it's in her laugh - I could listen to her laugh all day.
it's not like a child's laugh that makes you laugh too,
her laugh is like the wind singing,
pouring breath and music into the soul.

it's in the shape of her, how she is not too thin, but curves exactly right,
how she carries herself like nothing is going to bring her down -
it's in her voice when she's singing. I want to listen even more
than I want to sing myself.

it's in everything about her, though I know she'll never feel the same.
I'll never tell her how I want to bask in her presence
as if she were my messiah...
how every week that passes when I don't see her feels too long.

as I fall, I berate myself for the foolishness of my love for her. I know
as a Catholic girl, I should not want her the way that I do.

yet despite myself and all I hold dear, I hold her even more dear.
I know this part of me that wants more of her
is going to live inside of me forever.