And shivers ran up her arms,
dancing quietly as the words floated lazily,
drunkly,
in the background.
You make me want to,
recite every line to every poem we ever discussed,
and make a poem of all the things we didn’t,
or should have but didn’t,
or almost did but…
Damn, my body’s tender for you,
and my eyes hunger for you,
and my lips purse for you,
damn, I’m in love with you.
