my fingers slip out of yours
and wander the crests
of your knuckles
for the _nth time

and i apologize for the spillage
of words from my mouth
whenever our eyes meet
because i built a faulty dam
of sarcasm and forced humor
that just gives way every time
you look at me like that

the pad of my thumb has memorized
the curves of your left hand
and i'm sure you noticed how
my hand curves around your wrist
in silence, in pleas

and i want you to stay

i want you to stay:
where the crook of my shoulder
has forgotten its first form,
where my arms encircle air
that held you moments before,
where my heart wants you around
because with you, it's being heard

i want to apologize for my sweaty palms
because they're not used to handling treasures--
i would have trained them sooner
had i known i was going to meet you.