you can't see what's wrong with me
and i don't see what's wrong about you
when we're in the dark
it's too dark, too dim, to see clearly how wrong being with you is
it makes the escape into you easy to slide in and out of
all our flaws are softened by the dark
everything obscured, hidden in the shadows
stealing each other across the nights
we forego eyes
take only what our hands and mouths can feel
there's a sort of peace when we're in the dark
in all that we do and all that we've done
no, this isn't love
but something i could get used to
1.22.2021
YOU ARE READING
from the wreckage of obsolescence
Romancelove, sex and vulnerability. chapter three of an ongoing collection of poetry by a bisexual woman.
