TracesMature

Fifth book of poetry. First four are published.

I'm in love with the way your fingers
trace across my neck
and the way when your lips meet mine
we don't take them apart
the way your body meets mine,
and we don't distance them
and I've realized, now,
when we kiss
we take a moment
we breathe
and we savour,
we savour the second before our lips touch
with the tips of our fingers
lightly grasping each others skin
tugging us closer,
and I don't know if we're begging for more
or we let it come.
But if I could keep you,
here with me,
our bodies tangled
underneath the blankets
our breaths aching with the words
we left on our lips
god if I could let you know
how often the taste of you
is left stained on my skin
You would cover me
over and over
with every shudder
and every breathe
like strings
that aren't tangled anymore
plucked to make beautiful sounds,
a song only you could write.
And if every single time
your teeth grazed my skin
or your fingers ran along the lines
or my hands pulled you closer to me
so that our lips could meet again,
we fell in love all over again
we would never let that go
and believe me,
I wish that I could write a song
leaving my taste
all over you
so that you would ache for me again
and the tips of your fingers
would brush over every mark I left
even when they've faded away
we would still feel it.

The End

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