The Gravity of Us

by Phil Stamper

I focus on his face in the moonlight, and it’s then I realize I want to kiss him. I want to fix his insecurities and make it better, even if the happiness and rightness lasts only a couple of seconds. Or a few minutes. I bite my lips, subconsciously, and his gaze drops to them.

I want to be closer than this, though we’re basically touching. I want to be more alone than this, though no one’s around.