(no subject)

[apiphile]

forgotten feelings

he touches you and for a moment you wish
that his skin would stain yours like the mark
of ink against a fresh sheet of paper
or the scorch of bleach upon black velvet cloth;
you feel as tainted by it
as burned by it;
and you wish you could wipe off
the tell-tale thump and flutter
inside your heavy heart
the swoop and swirl of secret longing
somewhere in your stomach
that screams as his hand departs;
do it again
do it again
whatever you meant to start
finish it