Just touching for fun.
Feeling very little
in my intangible center
but some intensity of
want. Gripping and
open-mouthed but
no attraction or longing.
Let me kiss you everywhere
and in ways that
make your hopes
for yourself real.
But I won’t love you
even when I hold
your face in the night.
Love the title and the poem. "But I won’t love you/even when I hold/your face in the night." cool.
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