• bluebird 77w

    "What can I give that is all for you?
    My heart's no good 'cause it's split in two
    What can I give that is all for you?
    These arms are all I have
    But I'll hold you like I do love you
    But I'll hold you like I do love you"

    Arms; The Paper Kites

    #valentine #hearMe

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    FATHOM

    Strands
    Wrapped around your fingers,
    Incomplete between each twist
    Loosened around every ridge of your touch
    Black; soft
    My hair; caressed,
    Denying departure from the forks in your nails
    Hands, porous with the essence of autumn
    Playing with the splits of my scalp
    Smelling of bribed love
    Strands, trickling from the friction they offer,
    Down under your knees;
    Those ends tickling my nose
    And the nose wrinkling over to smile
    With closed eyes,
    Strands;
    Like threads being pulled out of the spool
    Unnoticed, with no intentions,
    And with a head in the clouds,
    Leaving your fingers smell of cherries
    When they reach your nose to itch
    And of the hallucination of oil
    When they run over pages and digits, leaving prints
    Of something you touched
    Hours ago.
    There's this strangeness in the way I love you,
    Love,
    Its the way you linger on my body
    Without touching me like you do
    And the way you don't let me leave
    Without evidences on yours;
    There's this strangeness, love,
    About how you're not quite around
    Yet leave me with something I can't call my own,
    There's this strange love,
    Where I'm afraid you'd leave me with all that there is
    Where you're the movements in my sleep
    The words I can't keep;
    I'm afraid,
    All I'd be left with will be,
    An incomplete kiss, your sweat on my neck,
    A you, a me,
    And you without me.

    Breaths
    A cloud I can't separate:
    Yours from mine, yours or mine
    Bare legs trapped in cold sheets,
    And toes touching with an excuse of accidents
    Cold still,
    Breaths, yours and mine
    On a neck, on a breast,
    Warmer, moist,
    Unaware of the cold feet,
    And the cold beds,
    This is where sleep lingers,
    Where warmth decides to sigh in our presence,
    Your breath on my chest; warmer, closer
    My breath on your shoulder, calmer, colder,
    This is where I can close my eyes
    And wonder why I chose to lay on the wrong side,
    Pulling blankets, gulping a dry mouth
    You're awake, and you smile with your closed eyes
    Breaths; like lullabies,
    Warmer when you smile,
    Closer, even more,
    This is where I belong;
    Where your eyelashes kiss my collarbones
    When it's morn,
    Waking up on the right side.
    There's this strangeness in the way I love you,
    Love,
    Its the way you linger on my body
    Without touching me like you do
    And the way you don't let me leave
    Without evidences on yours;
    There's this strangeness, love,
    About how you're not quite around
    Yet leave me with something I can't call my own,
    There's this strange love,
    Where I'm afraid you'd leave me with all that there is
    Where you're the movements in my sleep
    The words I can't keep;
    I'm afraid,
    All I'd be left with will be,
    An incomplete kiss, your sweat on my neck,
    A you, a me,
    And you without me.

    Walks
    Where no hands are held
    No words are pronounced
    Two bodies, walking
    Swaying,
    Like a pair of earrings, dangling with a movement
    With feet mismatched, and steps miscounted
    A push towards you and a lean towards me
    Walks,
    Where silence speaks nothing
    Just your peace in mine,
    A knuckle brushing past another
    Watches clinging onto each other
    Left with scratches around the rims
    It's the hair on my skin that tell you
    How fast my heart beats still
    When we walk
    And when our hands collide
    Just close enough,
    To roll down your folded sleeves
    Of a shirt I chose,
    For walks,
    Like this,
    Where your eyes search for eyes
    And your hand searches for mine
    With every finger just fitting in perfectly
    Dancing around yours, figuring out the riddle,
    After infinities,
    Meanings to our presence;
    Where every groove of your finger,
    Remembers every spot on mine,
    And where we don't need to catch our time
    For walks,
    Like this,
    To home;
    When home is walking just right by your side.
    There's this strangeness in the way I love you,
    Love,
    Its the way you linger on my body
    Without touching me like you do
    And the way you don't let me leave
    Without evidences on yours;
    There's this strangeness, love,
    About how you're not quite around
    Yet leave me with something I can't call my own,
    There's this strange love,
    Where I'm afraid you'd leave me with all that there is
    Where you're the movements in my sleep
    The words I can't keep;
    I'm afraid,
    All I'd be left with will be,
    An incomplete kiss, your sweat on my neck,
    A you, a me,
    And you without me.

    Lips
    Dried at corners,
    With creases and folds,
    Felt roughly by fingertips
    Cold and crude, with an uneven skin
    Brushing away with pauses;
    Noticing the tremble of my lips,
    This is where your eyes escape mine
    And there's a space between your lips,
    Wishing fulfilment,
    Just perfect enough to let me kiss,
    As if,
    We were meant to be.
    Lips,
    Forming silence, in a moment
    That doesn't seem to explain
    The reasons for existence
    Of a you, a me;
    Yet this is where neither of us doubts
    And that is a reason enough.
    A step closer,
    Lips, touching tips
    And toes, on their tips,
    Breaths leaving sweat above
    And arms not knowing where to lock
    So they fall.
    Still. Straight.

    A distance.

    A silence.

    There's this strangeness in the way I love you,
    Love,
    Its the way you linger on my body
    Without touching me like you do
    And the way you don't let me leave
    Without evidences on yours;
    There's this strangeness, love,
    About how you're not quite around
    Yet leave me with something I can't call my own,
    There's this strange love,
    Where I'm afraid you'd leave me with all that there is
    Where you're the movements in my sleep
    The words I can't keep;
    I'm afraid,
    All I'd be left with will be,
    An incomplete kiss, your sweat on my neck,
    A you, a me,
    And you without me.