We meet once upon a time,

not too long ago.

In a train.

In a womb.

At the beginning,

in motion.

Your hands dance,

my body moves,

my eyes move across the boarders of your body.

We dance,

we meet,

we play.


The art of building love often demands a foundation of trust.

I have carried and lost myself way too many times

in this journey and i am not too sure if i have anymore left

to add onto what you intend to build.


Once not too long ago,

on a night of vulnerabilities

you say the right things.

And i find myself locating me in you.

Locating us in motion,

is this what the inside of your head looks like?

I like it here.


All i’m trying to say is yes.

If you are asking,

then the answer is yes.

If you are not,

in my head,

I am still claiming you.

I am still dreaming of you

and writing you poems when we say goodnight,

or goodmorning.

You have become the start and the end to my day.


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