If my hands were numb to your touch,
and my eyes were blind to your affection,
I would still compose love letters for you with my lips.
For I could never piece together,
the perfect words that express truly how much
I care for you.
So instead I speak in tongue.
Breathlessly sliding my mouth in and out of yours,
like the pause in between a sentence.
You're a book I don't want to put down.