dancingonthemoon

i.     seven hours are spent waxing lyrical and kissing your eyelashes in the library,    studying. you mouth the third knuckle on my right hand, and memorize the hollow of my cheek.                     ii.                       tender kisses press like          afterthoughts and postscripts on my forehead:                                    p.s. te quiero. iii. you inhale so beautifully.                    iv.                           i will remember your iceberg-words.                           the door slams with                           a crash,                           like a glacier being born.