in the fading silver light of dusk,
we leave our marks on each other:
me, with my fingernails;
and you, with your teeth -
but deeper than that;
me with my heart,
and you with yours.
fearing, as i always have,
assigning meaning to something which has none;
i am quiet.
i don't tell you that your eyes thrill me
infinitely more than your hands do,
or that the way the shadows tuck themselves into your neck
leaves me breathless.
how could i?
i don't have the words, or the guts to say them.
all i have are my hands, my fingernails, my lips -
more than flesh and bone; tiny vessels
that together form my only means of conveyance -
but, fearing, as i always have,
assigning meaning to something which has none;
i will simply say this:
i hope you, too, feel as if
we go together
really really well.
10/25/15
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