HOME | DD

Description
lying in your bed at four in the morning,
pants down, but we’re just cuddling,
lips inches apart, sometimes touching,
bare arms and legs intertwined.

grass bent to our will at midnight,
no shoes, toes buried,
side-by-side in an open field, needing no company
but each other and the stars, marvelling at heaven.  marvelling...

at this unbreakable connection
that, unbeknownst to me, is
as tenuous as the whim that begets it.
it will never end, of course.  it could never end.

you’re holding me in your arms,
and you’re telling me that you love me,
and you’re breathing me in
and tracing your fingertips all over my skin.

eating shrimp on your couch—
i used to hate shrimp—
and watching the 9 o’clock news,
whispering sweet nothings.  whispering...

into you my rose-coloured view,
nothing sinister about the black day
that’s a long (short) time coming,
but will wait for electric love to pass.

sitting in your living room,
singing amanda’s melodies while
you hit the ivories for my heart—
i’m good for nothing, will you love me all the same?

not long later, lying on your shiny black grand,
you’re on top and my feet keep playing
sudden discord
in our beautiful song.

there was nothing more electric than the simplicity of us,
there never will be.
i don’t expect it, and i don’t want it,
because it won’t and can’t compare to you.

Description
lying in your bed at four in the morning,
pants down, but we’re just cuddling,
lips inches apart, sometimes touching,
bare arms and legs intertwined.

grass bent to our will at midnight,
no shoes, toes buried,
side-by-side in an open field, needing no company
but each other and the stars, marvelling at heaven.  marvelling...

at this unbreakable connection
that, unbeknownst to me, is
as tenuous as the whim that begets it.
it will never end, of course.  it could never end.

you’re holding me in your arms,
and you’re telling me that you love me,
and you’re breathing me in
and tracing your fingertips all over my skin.

eating shrimp on your couch—
i used to hate shrimp—
and watching the 9 o’clock news,
whispering sweet nothings.  whispering...

into you my rose-coloured view,
nothing sinister about the black day
that’s a long (short) time coming,
but will wait for electric love to pass.

sitting in your living room,
singing amanda’s melodies while
you hit the ivories for my heart—
i’m good for nothing, will you love me all the same?

not long later, lying on your shiny black grand,
you’re on top and my feet keep playing
sudden discord
in our beautiful song.

there was nothing more electric than the simplicity of us,
there never will be.
i don’t expect it, and i don’t want it,
because it won’t and can’t compare to you.