You placed my hand over
what you call your lopsided chest. You said
“this is it. This is yours”
I swear that day your skin was paper thin
that I could almost feel what was inside your ribcage.
I am climbing those walls, guarded
searching for an entrance
But lover, I can never claim you
When we met for the first time,
I didn’t think much of you. of course, I didn’t.
I only told a friend across the ocean that i am
thinking twice over that boy, the one far away.
I didn’t have your number but I knew you
by the two-syllables that spooned in my tongue
quite nicely. Now I call you by something else,
a shared word between only the both us
Perfect, you’ll say
I’d say: I don’t know but this bloom just keeps growing
and I’m afraid a storm might brew and blow
all the flowers to smithereens. What ifs, right?
It’s always these things that keep me awake,
but I’d pretend not to notice because
what if one day I don’t feel the same.
what if, what if, what if
there is this slow and steady burn
on New Years.
the dim light is