Our fingers grip
and lip to lip
we hang between birds and moonshine
it's 3 am and we’re making out
on a park bench.
it's 3 am, we're making out on a park bench
and it's funny because it's dumb but it feels right
I’m smiling and laughing and people are passing us
probably whispering about young love or dumb love
I don’t care.
I was calling you soft
and thinking you're gentle,
you were carving your hands into my sides
and I was thinking maybe i need this,
waist deep when the moon is higher than usual,
maybe I need you,
with your veins like tree branches like your whole body is in constant bloom
maybe I need you with your heart beat like the hum drum of half a dozen highways all at once
maybe I need that.
let's lay on our backs and watch constellations
across the sky in purple and blue strands of light
let's stumble onto sunsets we'll remember decades later
and messy kisses between breaths and hidden nervousness because
there is something to be said for the weight of your hand on mine.
You held me like rosary beads
and I prayed to your heart to stay.
I’ve seen a lot of leaving these days
a lot of U turns on free ways
a lot of broken down everythings
a lot of skin deep crying at the back of the closet
with the lights off.
There is no easy way to say it still hurts sometimes,
when the moon is high, or oranges ripe,
there is a season for everything
But I guess this is our time
so I'll play puppeteer on your heartstrings
and make you blush in public.
You’ll believe in cheek kisses and fountain wishing
like your mother believes in God
but you’ll show me what it feels like to fall
we’ll measure each other in thumb prints and honey
I wear clumsy like a ballgown,
messy like a masochist
and you, like honey.
I do not know where to hold my hands
on days when my heart breaks fast like railways
I trade clean skin for crimson sin and 3 months sane
you kiss my wrists and whisper back to me
it’s okay, it's okay, it's okay,
I believe in you like your mother believes in God
I never thought there was anything wrong with a religion that revolves around something you could actually lay your hands on
so I made a playlist with 27 songs that reminded me of your eyes and they all say something brilliant about the sun
I don’t want to play Russian Roulette with your care,
it never felt like a handgun sorta love to me,
I wanna play ukulele for you and rhyme
your green eyes to sunshine and red wine and whatever other cliche I find
because it's about goddamn time I remind you that your kisses burn like bullet holes when you aren’t around and
my wholly lonely hands reach for your holy wholesome heart and that’s just a romanticized way to say I think you’re pretty great.
I wanna dance
with your hands on my back in the middle of an intersection
I wanna make little kids cover their eyes when they pass by because I kiss you sloppy wet on your cheek
I wanna hold a stethoscope to your chest and marry my quickened breath to your heartbeat
because songs about love finally seem to make sense
I wanna find constellations hidden on your skin
I wanna make constellations with closed eyes and my lips on your skin
I wanna write songs for you and sing them badly
I wanna make out with you at 3 am on a park bench.
and jesus i guess i just can’t love you any less