Us: A poem from Love


He grabbed my hand

But he meant to grab his phone

To call the girl he truly loves.

Now he’s confused

Because he is reminded that my skin

Sparks with his in a way that he has never seen before.

He holds my hand in his,

And plays with my fingers–

His mind– wondering if my lips will still spark with his,

But he doesn’t try to kiss me.

Now, I’m watching him

Watch me–

Our eyes searching the whites in each other’s

As if the blank space will provide us with answers.

What have we done?

But before we can find one

His phone rings.

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