~because "I love you" doesn't even come close to expressing how I feel~
in the pleasure that is pain,
you bite down on my lip (hard);
I yelp sharply and you smile,
then gently move my hair
away from the two mirrors in my face
(they only ever reflect you)
you bring bruises out beautifully
in my neck with your mouth
and teeth enveloping my skin.
you whisper home-made poetry
that slides gracefully into my ears
(they only ever hear you)
and I shed silent tears
and grasp you ever closer
(if that's even possible)
I wrap myself impatiently around you
and still feel much too far away
"I love you" never sounded so pure
as when it cascaded from your mouth
(it never felt so inadequate to say)
Copyright 2005 Kristin Hubbard
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