I look forward to
knowing the texture of your skin
your words lips tongue against
See the shade, the light, the rings of your pupils
as you speak of things unfamiliar to me
but the way you talk feels known.
Right, warm, real
And our fingers touch in the middle of the street and
as two strangers awaiting the
We leave the guidebook, the map, the rules;
headfirst we run.
No hesitation, no nerves, no apprehension.
Instead, we fall forward and