I type and erase, and go back, and start over
I repeat this until I can write some shaky confession that resembles poetry
About something that is not how your lips taste
And how you pull me on top of you
Grab me by the waist and lace your fingers with mine
Something that is not how I quiet my terrifying fear of intimacy
Just for a moment, just for this second, just to type and erase,
and go back, and start over
And they tell me, "write what you know"
So my pages are empty and I scream back, "I've forgotten everything else but you."