full stomach, aching chest
i try again to push my fingers through the screen of my phone
(i just want to brush my fingertips against yours while we call)
i am full of desire
for conflict = love vs. lust, joy vs. death
meaning
i'm not quite sure what i want some nights,
but i always want to be next to you

love poems make me nauseous sometimes, looking back at all the past ones i wrote thinking the feeling might last
but naively, perhaps, i'll say that you feel very different  
i'm not afraid either way...
(okay. afraid of losing you, too)