poems and proses about love

chapter II - skin as pale as white lies, lips as red as pumping hearts

i do remember when your warm finger touched my lingering lips,

i do remember our plans of running away in case of an apocalypse.

i do remember how your skin shimmered under the pale moonlight,

i do remember the search for your little, escaped, white lies.

but do you, forgetful being, remember touching my chest?

but do you, careless being, remember our pumping hearts?