Your heart is not a state secret. You are meant to declare allegiances. You are meant to have favourites. Write the letter. Miss the train. Stay up until dawn talking. You should be caught red-handed loving something, someone.
for so long nothing
and then you
no one else quite lingered
no one else quite cleaved
the way you did, still do
how your arms wrap my waist
how our warmth interlace
and with grace, our hands trace
in your white walled space