to count the hurt I woke with each time
is to borrow more fingers after my toes
many a time have you left this room empty
because you were everything my walls
wanted to listen to when you hum & breathe
to my touches
and I can tell you that some beautiful things
are beautiful only once,
i do not know how to tell him/ that love is a foreign language my tongue cannot speak/ i do not know how to recite it/ i do not want to know how