my hands have never moved
along the
l  e  n  g  t  h  (of his)
spine and i
don't know what it is to be kissed.

i don't dance in his arms
or write him letters with my lips  
we don't sit in heart-pounding silence
our tangled feet, tangled together.

i love him,
but i don't know who he is
(and i)
have never
been in l o v e.