It’s been a week

without you

and every message

makes my heart leap.

You still call me baby doll.

It still warms my heart.

And the wait feels interminable.

But I know you’re worth waiting for,

that I would stand here forever

for another kiss.

I love the way you see me.

I love the way you speak to me.

And I wish I was yours.

I’ll probably never meet you.

You promised to never

send a picture.

And yet the words

you write to me

make me melt.

The story

we are writing together

is so passionate

and beautiful.

I envy my avatar.

I wish

you would do to me

all the things you write about.

Make love to me

the way I dream about.

I love to fantasize

about the night

that will never be.

You’re so good on paper.

I lap up every word,

savor every sentence.

I want more of you.

I want you in my life.

It’s been a week

and I’m dripping melancholy

everywhere I go.

And I want to tell you,

want to show you this poem,

but I don’t want to scare you off

because I’ll take

whatever scrap of you

I can get.

I’ll kiss you

with my words

and dream of you

at night.

Carry you in my heart.

This uncertain love.

I send you hugs

and kisses

and good nights,

all just baiting you

to call me

by my pet name.

You’re my favorite secret.

First and last thought

of the day.

You’re my muse

but just always

out of reach.

It’s been a week

and I can’t tell my friends

I’m addicted

to this romantic stranger.

That someone I don’t

even know

knows how

to make me gasp

with pleasure

and desire.

Each day is an etenity

as I wait to hear from you.

And forever

has only been a week.