The Makeout Playlist

Brand me with each
touch of your skin against my
porcelain coating,
no two fingerprints are the same;
I am covered over and over again
in your name.

Crack me open until
I am bleeding light
and butterflies are escaping
my rib cage,
finally free.

You are doing this to me.

I got scared when I saw
my pulse jump in my wrist,
dolphins breaking water.
Scream a little bit louder
cover the pounding of my heart.

I am falling a little bit more
for your smile.

Songs keep playing
and I’m trying to be a good girl,
but if your teeth break skin,
I’ll reward you in anyway possible.

I remember your fingers pressed against my back.
I remember how you held me.

You are doing this to me.

You are doing this to me.


One thought on “The Makeout Playlist

  1. I didn’t know that I had forgotten about love, about romance, about that indescribable thing you’re putting into verse, but reading your blog/your poems/ your words leaping out of your keyboard gave me that feeling of euphoria at having remembered something that for hours I had been trying to remember – but couldn’t… and, in an almost completely unrelated digression, I wonder if it (you know, “it”) is about being in love with being in love?

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