i fall in love with the way your lips form words,
how your tongue dampens your lips so that
your voice doesn’t come through dry.
i fall in love with the way your veins have
spilled across your hands, your warm blood
ebbing towards the surface, oxygenating
your numb structure. your upper lip curls,
and there is a careless trail of stubble,
indicating that you didn’t want to wake today.
your accent isn’t from here, but i find it familiar
all the same. your lullaby-like voice
speaks something funny, and i can feel
a smile tug on the corner of my lips. you could
cease my demons, hush me into a slumber.
you could graze my skin in careless movements,
skimming the surface like a stone on water.
i would welcome you into my humble embrace,
and plant precise kisses on your skin, like
seeds into soil. let them grow, let them bloom,
let us alienate our favored circumstances, and
welcome the possibility of broken bones.
scars tell the best stories,
let us see how this one ends.