You speak to me,
(Examples being:
“Even freezing days
Aren’t as cold with you around”
And
“I miss your
Touch
The most”)
And I lap up
Every word,
Knowing that it is
Your effortless truth.
And you,
Especially on these more frequent,
Bitter, benumbed nights,
Always make it
Your priority
To keep me
As warm as possible;
Our hands,
Bodies,
And lips,
They are so well-fitting
That the others now,
Looking back,
Seem awkward,
Harsh,
Cramped,
And afflictive.
My expected excitement-
You are my
Paycheck.
You are my
Christmas morning.
You are the thought
That picks me up
And carries me
Through each moment
That I can not see you,
And there’s not a
Damn thing about you
That I don’t
Unquestionably love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem