Fingertips Brushing Words

I don’t mourn being loveless.
I’m not sad for this sole-ship.
I still force to forget
First sensations when we’ve met.
Because they always tickle, I always smile.
and little by little, we spend the while.
Yet, I may love you now
And yet, I won’t tell you how.
I may not mourn, regret and repress,
get sad and have guts to confess,
but I don’t want to try to don’t feel
again. The water doesn’t appear still.
I’m a sea letting go of waves
only to drag them back
to let go of them again.
But when you do come back,
then perhaps I’ll let you know
that I’m willing to lose track
of why I won’t ever let you go.



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