the transitory nature of
your touch
disconcerting emotions sustained
by memories that stick like dust
i can’t get enough of this-
whatever ‘this’ is
my mind harps on about
your warmth, presence, and kiss
your broken hands grasp mine,
my poisoned lips touch yours;
nothing more than a sad race
to see who succumbs first
to the secret silencing both of us:
subdued, i bite my tongue
‘love’s’ just a synonym for ‘guilt’
and guilt’s the only race that i have won.
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 8:43 PM UTC
the transitory nature of
your touch
disconcerting emotions sustained
by memories that stick like dust
i can’t get enough of this-
whatever ‘this’ is
my mind harps on about
your warmth, presence, and kiss
your broken hands grasp mine,
my poisoned lips touch yours;
nothing more than a sad race
to see who succumbs first
to the secret silencing both of us:
subdued, i bite my tongue
‘love’s’ just a synonym for ‘guilt’
and guilt’s the only race that i have won.
