Tagged: arms

we count down to our

when i am in your

when i am in your
arms, i pretend to know what’s
what, take great gulps of

confidence, appear serene,
a thing you can hold onto

darling, there will always

darling, there will always
be moments when you will not
understand why i need as much
time with you as without

there is a constant
pull between wanting
and not wanting –
and until we stop falling
into each other’s arms
on top of the clean
laundry on an unmarked
sunday morning, there will be
nothing to worry about, you
will forever know i am coming

it turns out that our

it turns out that our
arms cannot keep one
another’s dragons
at bay. the evenings
are the hardest, as we
climb into bed, carrying
this new weight. the
mornings are the hardest,
as we wake up most
vulnerable, bracing
for a bruising day.
the hours in between
are the hardest, as we
try out every combination
of love and resistance,
endeavoring not to harm
each other in every way

secured in

inside your world is

inside your world is
my world, or perhaps it’s the
other way around,

or they’re lying side by side,
arms hooked, never letting go

it is after-hours