i found what some call god
in the hands of my lover,
trembling and
rough and
thick with grime.
i store her kisses behind my third rib,
pathetic and foolishly subdued.
sometimes i wish she had broken my arm
or leg
instead.
i am good but
i wish i were better,
softer,
kinder.
i wish i could do it all over again and be gentle.
Oct 17, 2024
Oct 17, 2024 at 11:51 AM UTC
i found what some call god
in the hands of my lover,
trembling and
rough and
thick with grime.
i store her kisses behind my third rib,
pathetic and foolishly subdued.
sometimes i wish she had broken my arm
or leg
instead.
i am good but
i wish i were better,
softer,
kinder.
i wish i could do it all over again and be gentle.
