They say what they say
To people who’ve been left
That there are more to come
And it’s a long life
But the way I placed my thighs
On both sides of your torso
Lightly sitting on your stomach
While I tell you how my week went
How I let myself get lost
In the way you stare at me, half drunk
As if you’re something
I do not have to compete for
When I press your hand
While crossing the highway
Even if I get hit,
it won’t be so bad after all
And when you tighten your grip
Of my back
Ache and pleasure all at once
When we share cigarettes
And talk like old buddies
Who haven’t seen each other
After prison
And when you kiss my forehead
That I have to close my eyes
Because the touch is enough
The sight is too much
Will never be the same with another
Not all that’s lost can be found
Originally posted on hellbentwritings.tumblr.com