i am empty
the lines etched into his skin like a
roadmap to the answers
he can't give
with lips to ears you whisper how you
want to
fill me up and i am
cross-eyed with desire
i used to want to feel my heart beat like his heart
tried to match my breath to his but it made me
gasp
hands to chest it's easy to
try to hold on to the things that i thought i knew
but things torn out by the root can
never live for long
hands to chest it's easy to
push away and say that
you have nothing
but when i breathe your chest
begins to rise and fall
your palms might hold
everything
your whispers might mark treasure
heartbeats might be
stories
waiting to be told.
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