Palms of gold
It is not possible for me to put him into words.
Or rather, what he is to me.
If only this wasn't the only way I can keep myself from suppressing how I imagine honey taste on his lips.
I wish clocks would tick when I miss him, and gravity wouldn't pull me through
The floorboards of desiring what I can't have.
What I won't allow myself to have.
How I long those palms that hold my heart, would caress my very being.
Leaning me into an eternity of invisible obstacles.
I'm still tripping over the mouse traps i've built from my sanity,
To keep myself away from his marbled mind.
