When you look at me
Your eyes are soft.
Your eyes are scared
And you force them to stay put.

I can feel
Your stomach churn
And your chest ache
With the bittersweet
Pinpricks of light brushes
And chance encounters.

Your fingers are dead weights.
They move clumsily
As you try to put us together
And whisper into my neck
Foreign words
That feel so warm -
So open and right
On your novice tongue.

When we let ourselves be
What we were, in those natural
Waves of skin, fighting everything
Keeping us back, you were so sure
We would never fight
That war again.

You think that we will change.
That we will find places
For elbows and ribcages,
And match these smiles and
Pauses and glances.
Puzzle ourselves into
A whole.

You think that
I will change.

I’m so sorry.