I'd like to put a run on sentence along your lips, pour marmalade over it,
and coat it with sour patch kids sugar.
I'd like to tell you that your hands feel nice in mine
-that the way you look at me has no effect on me whatsoever.
I'd like to run my hands along you, explore every freckle, scar,
every dip, and every surface of your body.
I'd like to memorize your facial expressions, so that I knew
when you were angry, sad, or happy before you even did.
I'd like to press my body into yours and know that we line
line up perfectly,
I'd like to know that if we ever decided to stay together forever,
that your skin would still burn and tingle every time we touched,
that your lips missed mine when they were apart, and that
we would stay each others' matching sock, knowing that
without the other we would simply cease to be.
I'd like the courage to tell you that I like you.