"He’s not a poet, but
I can tell from the way that he
traced the curve of my spine with his fingertips
that he thinks like one.
I can tell from the way that he
traced the curve of my spine with his fingertips
that he thinks like one.
Because I could never fall in love with a man
who didn’t know
that the most tender thing
he could possibly do
was send me a poem by Baudelaire
and tell me, “I think you might possibly like this.”
who didn’t know
that the most tender thing
he could possibly do
was send me a poem by Baudelaire
and tell me, “I think you might possibly like this.”
Because fuck if that’s not one of my favorites.
And all I ever wanted was to fold myself into someone
who heralded unspoken thoughts and was a messenger
of words without words
of a kiss broken by silence,
of silence, broken by a kiss.
who heralded unspoken thoughts and was a messenger
of words without words
of a kiss broken by silence,
of silence, broken by a kiss.
Because all of the men I’ve ever fallen for
weren’t really poets.
They just held secrets
like gold teeth in the back of their mouths,
And they kissed me
like I was the last poem in the world."
weren’t really poets.
They just held secrets
like gold teeth in the back of their mouths,
And they kissed me
like I was the last poem in the world."
- Shinji Moon
That one gave me chills.
And of course, this chilling song (an old favorite) to me, captures the words.
"Your eyes they look the same as mine
