he watched my hands move over his skin
and he asked when i stopped playing the piano.
“second grade,” i told him, playing clair de lune on his ribs.
he smiled and leaned back to sing an operetta that was cut short
by the tapping on the door inside his heart. he looked at me
i looked at him
and together we opened the door.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
he watched my hands move over his skin
and he asked when i stopped playing the piano.
“second grade,” i told him, playing clair de lune on his ribs.
he smiled and leaned back to sing an operetta that was cut short
by the tapping on the door inside his heart. he looked at me
i looked at him
and together we opened the door.