I was facing the wall,
hands pressed against the flesh
of my cheek
in hopes of discovering
the warmth I always did
from your palms-
I imagine it goes without saying
that I did not.
Our words were idle,
like the scarlet ornament that rests
between your ribcage.
Silence hung in the air
and I know this abyss between
our bodies spoke volumes
about us in ways
our endless conversation
never could.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
I was facing the wall,
hands pressed against the flesh
of my cheek
in hopes of discovering
the warmth I always did
from your palms-
I imagine it goes without saying
that I did not.
Our words were idle,
like the scarlet ornament that rests
between your ribcage.
Silence hung in the air
and I know this abyss between
our bodies spoke volumes
about us in ways
our endless conversation
never could.
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