isn’t this what God felt when he pressed together
the first Beloved: Everything.
Fever. Vapor. Atman. Pulsus.
Finally, a sin worth hurting for, a fervor,
a sweet—You are mine.
Natalie Diaz, Postcolonial Love Poem
But to kiss and to be kissed. To be wanted. That’s a different thing from love. And maybe, maybe if she tried, they could have something. Not everything, but something.
Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop
“How are you feeling?” Her face makes me want to cry, but in a pure, hopeful way. Esperanza. It is so fragile.
“I don��t want to die today,” I say.
“Me either.” (...) Under the covers, she reaches for my hand.
Alexandra Villasante, The Grief Keeper
Have you ever felt really close to someone? So close that you can’t understand why you and the other person have two separate bodies, two separate skins?
Nancy Garden, Annie on my Mind
& I started whispering
I’m in love with you I’m in love with
you I’m in love with you, like
I wasn’t a coward for taking three-quarters of a poem to say it.
Topaz Winters, Portrait of My Body as a Crime I’m Still Committing
I knew from that moment that I would fall in love with you. And for a long time, I did everything I could to resist it. But you made it impossible.
Natasha Ngan, Girls of Paper and Fire
She kisses in a way that makes me think, in the middle of kissing her, that if I hadn’t done this, I’d walk around for the rest of my life with some kind of regret whose origins I could never entirely place.
Mary McCoy, Indestructible Object
I hide in her hug as my cheeks grow hot. I can’t even try to pretend that when I talk about who I’ll marry, the only face in my mind is hers.
I don’t know what that means. All I know is that I don’t want to lose her.
Courtney Kae, In the Event of Love