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A TASTE OF INTIMACY
You and me, we spread like sad fire,
We are the rustle of burning autumn
The clang of metal
That cuts deep.
We are open mouthed puppets
Our disheveled vulnerabilities
hold hands and run
We love
We love hard
Like cherry red drops
Running
To earth
Our days echo between the trembling lands of dream and reality
A silent statue,
We are the first stroke of a doomed word never penned.
Our shared name
Sits like a hymn in our chest
Rolling about in times of dread.
You and me
We hold, we stay
We pen dark sagas on sand
And sketch collarbones by day.
You and me, we fall, get back up and fall again
You and me, we are time, space and seas astray.
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This article has 1 comment.
This piece of poetry encapsulates how intimacy, be it platonic or romantic feels like. It attempts to, as the title suggests, give the reader a taste of how it is to be so connected with someone they feel like a part of your own self.