what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

"Like what are we I don't understand because you're still here calling me love but you're not?"

//I’m sorry I shouldn’t call you love I guess that was habit.//

"But I love you"

You moved on.
I’m happy for you.
Now, to myself,
There’s nothing I have to prove.
You moved on.
That’s surely for the best.
Thoughts of what could be
Can now be put to rest.
You moved on.
Malice replaces my place in your heart.
I’m try to keep it together,
But it’s tearing me apart.
You moved on.

We fall asleep sometimes in the snow and you sing to yourself in the wrong keys
sometimes we don't speak but I have everything I've ever wanted and so much life left.

A kiss.

Used to
Mean
Something.

Used to covet
A kiss.

Desire.
Crave.
Love.

A kiss.
Now?

If it's not for
You.

What's the point anymore.