#intimatepoetry
A love that I once had, came with a hand—
“hand me your heart,” like, "hand me your bra"
While beneath candle-handful lights, unwrapping
yourself slowly to my delight; as these large hands
are quietly learning the language of your curves.
Because after love is lost, what hand isn’t still
searching for another heart to hold? A chest-hole
remembers — a love it once had
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 11:14 AM UTC
How do I unlearn kissing you goodnight?
Lips still hover over empty air;
like your name never left it.
Forever doesn’t wait.
It doesn’t knock — it just passes
through and calls it fate.
No one stays young.
Not love. Not even us.
Maybe I’ll see you again
like an old friend.
“Just friends,”
we’ll whisper it like it hurts less.
I’ll hold you like this life
is the only forever.
Feb 14
Feb 14, 2026 at 3:36 PM UTC
When I got in the shower,
I noticed that you hung
your washcloth next to mine.
When I realized,
I stared at it for a minute,
feeling a relief that words
can't really assure.
Not exactly rocket science,
but it took me by surprise
to see it hanging there,
reaching over it to grab mine.
When I finished washing,
I rung mine out and hung
it back beside yours,
scooting it over to make sure
there was enough room
for both to hang.
The parts of ourselves
that we try to hide,
welcoming them both
back home.
A small gesture that made me
reconsider not just my day,
but you
softening the distance between us,
at least long enough to shower, dry off,
and see your face when I walk out
the bathroom.
You don't ask for more.
To be honest
It's not about the rags at all.
Just another thing that makes me
Think of you
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 7:16 PM UTC