It was just one finger, but I dreamt about the square inches that laid there when I felt the brush of his hairs standing up straight. There was something about the intricacies and explosions that occurred underneath his eyelids every time he blinked, with toes curled over the edge, he was something like nature, sprouting over the tips of my fingers.We drew shapes around each other with our eyes, but geometry could never hold all of what we were, the emotions would come spilling out of the pores in our skin, and clothes were never enough to keep them hidden.
"everyone could see the remainders of us in the bags under our eyes"
YOU ARE READING
Ephemera
Poetrye·phem·er·a əˈfem(ə)rə/ noun things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short time. items of collectible memorabilia, typically written or printed ones, that were originally expected to have only short-term usefulness or popularity.
