my word is my gospel a body made up of snatches of conversations kind words from chapped lips various pen inks staining the skin of my hands and blunted fingertips
believing so fiercely in a love that i can only hope believes in me too
and i think a lot about empty spaces so many voids to fill like how your hand would fit in mine and we could laugh about my sweaty palms
like how a girl i loved held my hand that first time and said she wasn’t afraid she wouldn’t be ashamed walking by people in a crowded mall and flipping through baby name books like we deserved a future together
i think about your cold feet wondering if there are holes in socks that you keep forgetting to sew and wishing there were a way to close those gaps of darkness nestled between your ribs
we could plant flowers there ya know plants i promise not to **** painting a black thumb green if only to see you smile
and i think about kissing you i think about it a lot but i don’t have that kind of courage still trying to believe in love like i did as a child
writing that darkness into something tender and soft smoothing out those jagged edges like carding fingers through your messy hair
filling those gaps with sunshine and smiles and your name on my lips a new favorite taste