How do I explain it?
I wish you knew every beauty mark
on my back.
Wish you knew the muffled cadence of my breaths
on your shivering skin.
I want to memorize the angularity of your jawline
as your arresting eyes swim over me.
….your piano hands running through the satin
in my hair.
It wouldn't just be about the smudged
and faded paper figures,
between the folded pages of my sketchbook.
It'd be simple—at least I think so.
The first and last thing I'd think about.
I'd do everything that I said I'd do.
...like make the world brand new.
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