he touches me like I've got band-aids all over:
careful.
he begs me not to fall in love so that he can:
misunderstood.
he doesn't know any of my secrets
and he probably never will,
no matter how many times I say them:
he doesn't understand my language.

we can stare at each other for hours:
patience.
we can sleep whenever we want:
freedom.
we can spend all the time in the world together
and keep each other warm,
but we can't shower together
or get the same invitations.

I know, it's difficult without speech,
or proper thumbs, or proper legs,
or knees or thoughts or being stuck
with lemon drop kisses that make
you want to scream they hurt so good.

I'm going to stop apologizing when my
teeth get stuck in your lips, and I'm going
to start drinking more, but only from the left side,
and the next time I look down at what you're doing
I'll just let you keep doing it.