No rush.

No urgency.

No fire—
   but a slow,
   steady burn

   just beneath the surface.

A quiet kind of closeness,
    one that doesn’t need to be proven.

Just laughter,
     hands resting easy,
     stolen glances…

     that didn’t steal too much.

We kept it light.

Kept it careful.

Not because we had to,
    but maybe just to see if we could.

And yet—

I felt it in every near-touch,
    in the space where my lips almost met yours,
    in the way we held back—

    but never let go.

Desire is easy.

Restraint is rare.

But last night,
    restraint was just another way of saying:

    "I want you."