I will not write about you.
I will not write about how you send me to
Places I have not been to in quite a while
With words that revive the comatosed
Butterflies in my stomach

Nor will I write about how your hand behind
My back sends goosebumps to my heart
Up and down like strumming guitar strings
A song I would not want to end

I will not write about how you caress my thigh
Making me wish the hands of time would stop
For a moment, so that yours would still be on me

How your chin is like a puzzle piece
That finds its way perfectly upon my
Shoulder as we ride up the escalator

I will not mention how many times I have wished it
Was not "you and me", but "us"

No, I will not write about all of that.
I will not write about you.
I will never write about you.