idk your saliva must be warm brandy on my palate
burning soft like a truth I was not ready to taste.
idk your hands must be my mother’s,
the only place my chaos forgets its name.
idk maybe I reached too far back,
early 2000s childhood soft lit fairy tales.
a Disney princess kind of love,
where nothing breaks unless it is cursed.
idk maybe I wanted you to be magic,
without asking what magic costs.
maybe I mistook comfort for destiny,
and silence for something sacred.
idk why your voice still echoes,
like a song I never learned the ending to.
idk why I keep returning,
to a door that never chose me.
idk maybe love is not gentle hands,
maybe it is the leaving that defines it.
or maybe I am still that child,
waiting for a story to end kindly.
idk.
but if I ever taste you again,
I hope it does not feel like memory.
I hope it feels like something that stays.