Lover
Happiness is elusive.
Sometimes it hides in the hands
of a boy,
his fingertips across my back.
And I need his hands
like concrete blocks,
to build up my spine.
And I need his mouth
to speak the words
that get stuck inside my chest.
There is stormy weather
in my gut and
I need the shelter of his rib cage
when my own bones
aren't strong enough.
I need his cheek
against mine,
our breath like en electric current.
I found out what 'need'
means and it is the
weight of wanting forever
with another person.
This poem is about:
Me