Math class

I want to dive into your hair’s wild tangles and caress your neck with moist lips as I drown. My arms twitch and yearn to separate your feet from the Earth in warm embrace. I’m picturing parting your mouth and dress open with one fluid motion, as easy and smooth as silk sheets. When the teacher calls my name, several times even, I don’t notice. Then the class’ seconds turn awkward, and the back of your head turns to face me quizzically. Reality shatters my satin dream.

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