burnt tongue.

November 11, 2009

bumps on her skin
raised flesh providing
markers in space
tic tac toe triangle
the strongest structure
above her button

wrasps* breaking breath
a tightness between her ribs
choking symphonies
orchestrating thought

thinking,
goddamn this distance
that drives us so
crazy.
frenzied by the now, the what ifs, the
supposed, the meant.
stuck on plans
that seem to no longer fit.
bc of her button.
her breath.
her ribs.
her skin.

his skin.
his ribs.
his breath,
over her button.

it seems as though what’s important
is all here.

so be here.
be here.

 

 

______________
*i can’t read my writing. this may not have been the word. what does it matter anyways, this sucks.

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