I am sitting in the shade whiles watching him work. He picks the engine apart with silent patience and then he puts it back together again. The engine does not start and he picks it apart again. Sweat is pearling down the tanned skin on his back and I struggle to resist the urge to touch him. Every now and then he glances in my direction with a boyish grin. The heat carries mirages of the words that have to stay unspoken, memories of stolen kisses in the shelter of the dark. Through the distance between us I can feel the scent of him and remember the comfort of resting in his arms. For a brief moment the illusion comes to life in my imagination, soothing, tempting and still ever so forbidden. A rush of air brings the sensation of his lips on mine, and I remember how it feels to run my fingers through his hair.
One word, one little move, and it can all be mine again.
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