you feel like poetry
it’s 4 am,
it’s just you and me in the entirety of the universe.
everyone else turned into clouds,
now they're falling as rain.
i wake up in your arms,
just how i fell asleep in them.
i feel you breathing,
i feel your heart beat against mine,
i feel you dreaming,
i feel your hair tangled with mine.
you keep me so close,
so close that our souls almost touch each other,
so close that your skin feels like mine,
so close that we might not even be different people,
so close that we might be one.
your voice,
your goddamn voice.
the haze in your voice,
the way you say the words,
the way you carve those words in my soul,
you have no idea about the things your voice does to me.
you’re in your olive green sweater,
i’m unclothed,
but i’m not cold,
you’re all the warmth i need.
i slide on top of you,
you caress my hair,
your fingers tangled with them.
you don't fight them,
you stay there,
tangled,
with me.
you, feel like poetry.
you’re smiling,
the wrinkle on the corner of your eye,
the soft dimple on the corner of your lips,
you kiss me,
you taste like cigarettes.
davidoff cigarettes, the ones you like.
i place my hands under your sweater,
i can feel your body.
i close my eyes,
i take it all in,
feel it in my soul,
then carve your scars onto it.
you’re looking at me,
looking at me feel you,
your eyes are partially closed,
but your smile,
baby your smile’s so big.
you, you feel like poetry.
your hands touch my waist,
go straight up to that deepest point,
they stay there,
mold themselves in me,
decorate themselves around me,
like they belong there,
like they’ve found home,
“please never leave.”
“i want to sing for you” you say,
“i only have one heart, please have mercy on me” i say
with my hands taking your sweater off.
you sing “sunsetz” by cigarettes after sex
my heart skips a million beats.
my hands tremble,
my soul quivers,
just at the sound of your voice.
your hands are so big,
i would fit just right inside the palm of your hands.
you’d carry me,
you’d take me home,
you’d keep me,
you’d look at me and say that you own me.
it would be an honor,
beautiful beautiful boy,
to be owned by you.
because you,
you feel like poetry.
