my hands have never moved
along the
l e n g t h (of his)
spine and i
don't know what it is to be kissed.
i don't dance in his arms
or write him letters with my lips
we don't sit in heart-pounding silence
our tangled feet, tangled together.
i love him,
but i don't know who he is
(and i)
have never
been in l o v e.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC
my hands have never moved
along the
l e n g t h (of his)
spine and i
don't know what it is to be kissed.
i don't dance in his arms
or write him letters with my lips
we don't sit in heart-pounding silence
our tangled feet, tangled together.
i love him,
but i don't know who he is
(and i)
have never
been in l o v e.