I have a poem on my lips,

That mouths the wonder of his eyes,

and it waits to erupt at any moment.

I have a poem on my lips,

I wear it like the feel of his touch,

the sound of his voice,

the beat of his heart,

the constant breathing motion of his chest.

I have a poem on my lips

that mouths the story of us,

of love,

of loss,

the contours of our bodies melted under the heat of the sun.

I have a poem on my lips

that spills laughter onto his back,

thunder into his heart,

ripples of secrets into his mind,

electricity into his soul.

I have a poem on my lips

that stammers about things like fate,

and how I’d like to carry his heart forever.