pluto boyd

April 6, 2006 - Kentucky
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Between the lines.

I am bewitched,
Fully fleshed in this space between us, my hands that yearn to reach for you hold on to the edges of my sweater instead.
We sit with our lungs, hearts, and souls spread open in the dim of the night.
fresh like spring and sensitive to the world outside the window,
Yet the only thing that crowds us is a funny warmth.

The kind that spreads to your toes and fingers
Cradles you in the early morning when the dew is settled on the grass
When the line between friends or more is blurred and yet it's too late or early to distinguish.
And our words are heavy yet smooth like tea running down a sore throat.
Like safety in your mothers arms before the world has taken your youth.
Like what I have waited to swallow and bury in my stomach
To keep the butterflies company.

I trace the curve of your lips and nose while you speak above me
I get lost there,
And I fear that I could die like this.
Lost, lost, lost.
I think it may be a sweet goodbye however.
That you would write letters and mail them to keep me company,
Or sing me the same lyrics that I have tattooed on my skin.
The same dim yet easiness I feel when you look me in the eyes.

Please never stop talking, please don’t say it's time to go home.
Please let the clock pause and stop ticking so I can never lose this.
So I can soak in the moment and not let it pass by me this time.
Please stay for me.

Please tell me that this is something for you.
That you are looking into my eyes and hoping that I will finally gain the courage to break the space between us,
To make the stars fall and land between us and burst right where we lay.
Please choose my open and vulnerable soul to keep yours company when the snow falls.
But you have the choice,
And I seem to know that I will not be the answer.

So let me stay in the moment between the lines.

The time before the sun breaks over the town,
The pieces of this night where you looked back at me.
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