Sticky Sweet

When her hand brushed mine, time
Caught its breath and the memory of it stuck
Like bubblegum, sweet and sticky and overpowering.

Forbidden thoughts welled up, ideas
That could not live in the day flooded in
And I drowned in their sweet, sticky ecstasy.

It is not love, cannot be love, how
Can I love you, the object of man's desire
And I am just a sweet, sticky friend of a friend.

But the thought of it, the taste of it, the
Fire, the heat and the burning desire–from a touch
Of your hand, that gentle brush that flames in my mind.

Next time, next time I will stretch out, my hand
Will touch yours and the heat that is mine will toast
Your desire and your sweet and sticky world will be mine.