how heavy is your heart today?
the same weight of his wandering hands.
ONE.
touched
my first love was a wanderer
and i loved him anyway.
i trusted my make-believe
eternity in his untamed brows,
floppy hair and small framed glasses.
i wrote poems of him
as if he was my one muse.
i drafted my future around his
because i didn't want anything
unless it was with him.
i carried bricks off his shoulders
when the slope of them fell too deeply.
but
he did not love me the same.
perhaps it was the wishful thinking
or the undeniable blindness that came with
such a very youthful forever
but he had shown his emotional longing for me
in a way
i couldn't fathom.
i wanted him to touch my soul.
speak words that he wouldn't dare
say to another without thinking of me.
touch my heart,
without laying a single
pad of his finger
on my skin.
it's a shame
he thought my heart
laid between my thighs.
— touching
r.n
YOU ARE READING
hold my heart.
Puisiwill you hold my heart? rini's heart could one day weigh of gold the rock solid material gravitating your shoulders low, or the next, weigh of feathers because her touch was nearly alike.
