(no subject)
Navy blue eyelines cross a navy blue set.
A temporary slip of the push-pinned memory;
hypochondriac.
But I am the pornography that makes you breathe
That makes you feel
Feel alive and shudder to think
What it's like,
"oh what's it like?"
And I can't even tell where your fingers end and mine do begin.
For I can't.
But this could be the kiss that all others yet to come in life
will be judged by.
I apologize for that strap slipped right down your shoulder baby.
I apologize because I tried my best , I tried my best.
But I am the pornography that lets you believe
That lets you taste
Taste the life and shudder to think
What it's like, "oh what's it like?"
And I can't even tell where your fingers end and mine do begin.
For I can't.
But this could be the kiss that all others yet to come in life
will be judged by.
Wait-don't you die for me.
Just go.
This is a world that I feel I frustrated with my soul.
Let us define, let us define.
This is a world that I feel I frustrated with my hope,
But I won't give in.
Allow me to run my fingers gently up your spine,
Across your shoulders, down to your clavicles,
As we are breathing as one, together.
The movement starts here.
