Jul 2016
I -
in a dark room on a bed that creaks
holding hands and we're laughing
you're stunning
reverence in your voice
i feel holy, and i feel beautiful
- II -
hungover on a park bench
the third time we ever met
you're telling me about your poetry
i'm telling you i've never had a muse
we're both nervous, but it's nice, too
- III -*
your hands are in my hair
and we fit like puzzle pieces
you love me with your eyes
and i melt, even before
you touch my body
- IV -
half-asleep curled into each other
netted in the safety of your arms
a mumbled *i adore you
as you pull me closer in
there is safety here, and kindness
in a dark room on a bed that creaks
holding hands and we're laughing
you're stunning
reverence in your voice
i feel holy, and i feel beautiful
- II -
hungover on a park bench
the third time we ever met
you're telling me about your poetry
i'm telling you i've never had a muse
we're both nervous, but it's nice, too
- III -*
your hands are in my hair
and we fit like puzzle pieces
you love me with your eyes
and i melt, even before
you touch my body
- IV -
half-asleep curled into each other
netted in the safety of your arms
a mumbled *i adore you
as you pull me closer in
there is safety here, and kindness
(22/F/London)
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