Love
come, go away
like curtains you fall back and forward in the golden hour
of the darker lights
hidden, open, quiet
breathe, you’re loud, soft to touch
hold me against your skin if only our eyes linger
blue, your footsteps reside and awake like waves between our limbs your heart- pink, and red lips in purple
hue
you, look at me like I look at you and bend, straighten
curve, fall back, dance to the soundless music and the play of our fingers, foggy and green when we overlap— stop
breathe
I count your moles on the hazel lenses I call my own, you—
do you feel the cracks?
crevices in my skin pour into your heart walls that are grey, bleed out the dark and dusk draws out our light
you and me and our thorns white under the moonlight you, you
“let’s swim?”
in the craters of this space lets enclose ourselves in the little cage and again— hidden, naked, brown
reflections spoke honesty and you were so profound, a dip on one side of your cheek calling out the smile on my face— dimples, how quaint in this quiet forest where leaves are singing and we remain still, restless
move, my head on your neck and you move again with our hand on each waist
sway, to the soundless music that plays from the red of our pain
love, into the night and the pinkish golden haze
fall into water and stay dry, breathe with me, let our eyes linger, stay,
Stay.
Swati Ramaswamy is a recent graduate from UC Davis and is an aspiring creative writer who loathes speaking in the third person.
