Fourteen.

Every time I try to
touch you,
your shape is a
wisp of smoke
in my hand.

You never let
anyone get close to
you and I know
why, but I
won't stop trying.

I just want
you  to feel
the same way
that I do.

I want you to
think about me at
the most inconvenient
of times, I want you
wet at the worst
possible moment, yearning
for me like I do
for you.

But I think
that already happens,
you already want me.
Its your fear
that stops you.