Friday, April 26, 2019

This is the one where I finally write about you.

I'm so tired of love that has to pretend that it's not love.
My heartbeat has turned into an alarm that won't be snoozed,
I want to rip it out and toss it across the room
where you stood and devoured all of me with your tongue
and then begged me for more.
Last christmas,
I held you like it was the last beautiful thing I would ever see,
filled your mouth with as much charm as I could pretend to muster
but it still wasn't enough for you.
I am homesick for a person who has only held me once
I have undressed in front of you, stripped myself of skin,
untangled myself from the doubts
and asked you to love me.
but love, for you, was just something to do
until the new year started.


Leggy.

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