Brownie Points

It is the morning after, 

You half naked and full of eyes,

Look at me. Stare at me,

And I avoid. My eyes 

Purposely miss yours,

As if we hadn’t spent the night

Before looking into each other,

Searching for each other.
I think I saw too much 

Of myself in you.
Our hands became music,

Fingers became dancers,

A marching band softly became us.

In the spaces between our lives

Where we searched for friendship,

We found traces of love,

Neatly tucked into 

Each breath that we held

In exchange for a kiss.


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