August 15, 2017

Goose bumps

I read your goose bumps
 in the dark
Like they are braille
Imagining that each section spells I love you
I make believe each exhale is a declaration, each inhale, a question mark.
The repeated sighs of I need you,
And come closer please?
  Our bodies blankets,
Our breathing pillows,
Coercing us into sleep.