two moons

And we lay there while I trace your tattoos with my finger.

And we talk about nothing and everything all at once.

And the things I want to say are at the tip of my tongue,

But I won’t allow myself to say any of it.

And the skin contact—it just makes sense.

And you look at me with such a confident gaze.

And you see me in a way I haven’t been seen before.

And I don’t let myself indulge in this feeling,

Yet I want to hold onto it as long as possible.

And I don’t want to go, but we both know I will.