You’re a soft color, almost a sound or a smell, instead
When you smile, something breaks in my chest
A rib, I think. A scapula, a clavicle, perhaps my manubrium.
Tiny earthquakes, in my veins and tendons,
When you press your skin to mine.
Hold my hand, poke my side, lay a wrist on my forehead-
It’s an earthquake with an epicenter,
Expanding waves of zipping electrons and firing nerves
Somewhere between fiery ant invasion and electrocution-
That is your touch. Zaps and sparks that hurt,
Nips and bites that sting long after sustained
The worst part is when you realize, when you give me that
Slow, half-apologetic, half-self-deprecating, half-pleased lip twitch-
And then you smile, and you eyes crinkle and sparkle and I
Forget why I never told you that I love you.