Body Language
Curious hands find their way to each other
whilst ignoring my officious brain,
as I enter a rarefied thrill of emotion
when your palm touched mine.
How affectionate and full of warmth, looking at me like that,
as if we’re the only people in the room.
I place my hand on your chest;
it remembers how fast it was, and what happened that night.
You embrace me, and I embrace you;
laughing about how sticky and sweaty
we were beneath the sheets.
But it’s okay, you said, and continued to pull me close.
Those shoulders I lay down on
and the arms I use as my bed;
How all solidified quagmires melted with one touch;
nondescript days withering.
(The same eyes that said so much in a blink,
do not speak to me anymore.
Those identical hands that I ached for,
do not find me anymore.)
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