I held his hand
as if I hadn’t felt the palm
hundreds of times before,
all of my words
interlaced
in our quiet fingertips.
I kissed those lips—
they tasted like mint and ***
stolen from his parents’ kitchen cabinet.
I kissed and kissed
until I could almost forget
how restless I’d become.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
I held his hand
as if I hadn’t felt the palm
hundreds of times before,
all of my words
interlaced
in our quiet fingertips.
I kissed those lips—
they tasted like mint and ***
stolen from his parents’ kitchen cabinet.
I kissed and kissed
until I could almost forget
how restless I’d become.
Published in Somewhere On A Highway (https://shopcatalog.com/somewhere-on-a-highway/).