You wore the moonlight like a secret,a closely guarded confession to bloom against your skin.I was too afraid to touch then,already not knowing how to let gobefore this dangerous rubicon of contact where our hands meet.Even then, I was alreadyclinging too jealously.But...
saudade
You touch me and it's like a memorythat I have yet to make,a nostalgia I should not yet know.There was a word for this,something that encapsulated an entire history that may beimpossible to write about.I can feel it before your hand...