I wish I could write a song
and tell the world about the lightening and ocean storms in your eyes
and waltzing in parking lots
until our lungs can't take the laughter,
Or how you taught me to fence
under christmas lights
how perfectly my head fits
against your clavicle
and what a mess you make every time you try to cook.
But oh, what a scandal that would be.
For every girl who's hand you've ever held,
who seemed almost happy to assume we fucked the moment she left the room,
For every man who I ever wanted to be close to,
who got frustrated and gave up on me without really trying,
using you as an excuse,
I wish my fingers could find the notes
So I could sing for the world to hear
that our lips haven't touched since the second grade.
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