I expected harsh lips,

And hands that created fists

Marks of proof,

Indents on the skin.


I expected dimly lit alleyways

At 3 am,

In a hoody,

Too dark to distinguish.


I expected your hands to be rough,

And your heart laced with ice,

Unwelcoming and metallic;

Rusting around the edges.


But you were none of that.


We sat outside,

Looking at the stars

Wondering who could be staring back.

You lips grazed mine

But my eyes stayed glued to the sky.


I invited you into my room;

Into my thoughts,

Into my life

But an invitation to my home

Doesn’t equate to an invitation into my body.


Your hands were not rough.

Nor was your heart cold;

In fact, it danced with the stars

And roared with the lightening outside.


And so,

What i thought of you,

What i expected of you,

Was to understand;

Or grasp the wild concept of just sleeping,

Or maybe even dance on the shore.

But i didn’t want to swim,

For the water was cold and choppy

And the sun wasn’t shining,

And dipping heads below the surface

Sometimes makes it hard to breathe.


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