Lies we told ourselves
Dissolve in the red wine.
You whisper truths through the night,
Admiring what used to be,
Until we’re back in the here and now.

Blink, blink
Soft breathing plagues your lips,
Uncompromising eyes look at me,
Searching for purpose on my face.

Touch, touch
Warmth piercing my skin.
The hand of the fearful bold
Reaches for serenity.

Kiss, kiss
The reminder of a passion so far gone,
Looking for honesty
When I’m too afraid to admit my mistakes.

What will I do?
Where would I go?
Who will I be
If you stopped loving me now?

Sketching scripture,
a seductive scrawl.
Fingers tracing,
receptory recall.
Tapering with time;
a melancholy erase.
Reminiscing your writing,
healing hieroglyphic efface.

When I think of
all the words you said...

the delicate whispers,
the wispy desires…

a genuine intensity
realizes it will
never let you go.

Yet, for now,
my body feels foreign,
because the simplest
tenderness I have yet to feel
is the pleasure of your
Touch.

I can feel your head in my lap,
your hand in my hair,
your lips on my cheek,
but it all feels wrong

like it's not you who's supposed to be there

It doesn't matter
That our eyes didn't meet
When we passed in the hall
That they sat somewhere else
While I looked straight ahead
And laughed too loud
With all their old friends

It doesn't matter
That we only talk when they want to
We flirt in careless circles
If you could even call it that
We hit a rough patch
I should leave you behind
For those that care who I really am

It doesn't matter
That I always end up
Close to crying
I ought to get you out of my mind
But you remembered my birthday
And the pronouns my friend told you
Why did I ruin this
Why did I ruin this

i lie awake at night
staring into the darkness
desperate to feel
the shadows of your touch
on my body once more