A poem with no name.
Lips hesitate
Lips that burn in this coldness
Lips waiting in a moment that is, too long.
My voice escapes the locket
My hands curve in to touch me
My feet make love, but it goes unnoticed.
I wonder if.
I wonder if the trembling is real
I wonder if the desperation in my lungs is a warning of death,
Or that love again is possible.
I remind myself.
I remind myself that tears are not welcome
I remind myself of who I am, and that I must sadly turn away.
My voice softens the silence
My hands open out to touch his
My eyes don’t want to waste time upon anything else other than
Lips part
Lips taste the air
Lips waiting in a moment that is, too long.
