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What are you waiting for?
Faces seemed more real with scars.
Like there was a story we could share.
A touch we could have.
More intimate than lips.
More there than it was.
The moment it was before.
What does she see when she's making the change?
Shuffling with the lingering glance, and the stiff turn aside.
What would she have me feel today?
Something stolen and secret, like glimpsing through a naked mirror.
Shame came with my curiosity, but moreso my pleading.
Just a game worth losing. Where no win, score, or error will ever be recorded again.
Was there ever more?
