I took off my jacket and showed you my heart.
It pulsed with electric waves of raw nerve and excitement, like the octopus tendril on the blue glass.
You touched it gently, knowing it must be treated like so. And again, when we were alone. Alone, my heart would stir in a gentle whirlpool guided by your fingertips.
The second time you saw my heart was the day I realised you would slip entirely away if I didn't let you have it.
Hooked.
Waiting had made you hungry. So we did what we should have done a long time ago, only hadn't.
You kissed me where my beating bare chest rose like an ocean under your lips, and trembled with tremors.
You had forgotten how to touch me, how to stir the white bliss. You had forgotten the day I took off my worn leather jacket and showed you the heart on my sleeve.
YOU ARE READING
Layercake
PoetryPoems that you might like to dip into. Places my brain has wandered when reflecting on the past. Ongoing work. New piece each week.
