Fantasy

I study the curve of her lips when she smiles at me
My eyes follow the curve of her hips as she walks away
I like how her hair gently touches her face, I resist moving it from her eyes to put it in place
I know she can feel the heat of my stare, but I can't act upon it, I pretend I am unaware
I say her name over and over in my mind, just the sound of it helps me to unwind
She chooses her words ever so carefully with me, afraid I'll read into them and add to my fantasy
The times we get together and talk are few and far between, sometimes we even get to walk and enjoy everything that is green
She won't open up to me no matter how hard I pry, but I hope she knows what she says is safe with me until the day I die...