I haven’t Traced your ear enough with my fingertips to have it memorized Can’t quite remember the imprints of your hands How your skin feels on my skin What your breath sounds like when you soften
But you’re beginning to feel familiar
And I know one day I will know you and all this Like the sun knows the sky
Imagine being a poet with nothing to say. Vacant eyes fixed on your screen all day. If a lost soul reaches out, you slap them away. You pretend to be a poet, but you've got nothing to say.