We were suspended between
perfect chaos and haunting steadiness;
your hands as stable as swaying ships
until they found their harbor within my own.
And your lips still hold the taste of the last name
you let them whisper, oh how I pray that it was mine.
For I still need your quivering fingers,
I still need your trembling lips,
I still need your shaky breathing,
and all the beats your heart has skipped.