nad451

i punched out a message – Morse code along the frame of your shoulder blade, asking you in taps to turn around and face me,        and the lingo of your body responded in compliments, giving me full concentration as we spoke in sign language –        averting our eyes, smiles uncertain hands fumbling together  into knots and unraveling,    revealing our need to feel     each other’s affections;      to find shapes suitable        enough to express the          deep-seated longing            we kept concealed. [i myself keep covered with past broken promises spoken to my broken self; stale resentments