Limerence

Our hands are clenched tight

fingers curled around each other.

 

The trepidation of the ineffable has us quivering

in our high top boots

and fishnet tights.

 

The fabric snaking up our legs

matched the crossing of our minds,

each so entrenched with the other’s thoughts.

 

In unison we sing our song

melodies so sonorous

that the forest can’t help

but hold it’s breath.

 

No one notices anything but the beauty

of our smiles

so our tears escape unnoticed

rolling down blue-veined faces.

 

Imprints of nails on our palms

still rouse memories

of silent stares

and untold secrets hanging heavy

in the air.

 

We are iridescent with the limerence

but never does the epiphany grace our minds

that we clenched hands so tight

that one one fell

the other did too.

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