march
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The tilt of you, the fractures where the light slips in. I trace your doubts like constellations. Your mistakes beg for reverence, a desperate proof of life. I shaped you into a vision without weight, perfection hollowing all meaning until I warped your memory just to survive. There is no hesitation in standing bare, skin
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I used to think that love could make time stop, but he taught me time is irrelevant. He could infuriate me like no one else, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more exasperated with someone. I could never bring myself to intentionally hurt him. Yet, the fear of missing out on something so painfully
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When I turn away he finds me A hand to my jaw a look I can’t outrun He doesn’t move like he’s thinking he moves like breath like instinct like the step between desire and permission We don’t speak in answers we speak in breath in steps in touches that say stay And eyes that
Wishful Thinking 