I know I promised you
that I would not write instead of speaking
but my tongue is too rough and dry
to smooth your skin
the way my fingers can
so all I can do
is draw the curves of your name
on notebook paper
I know that I should
let your eyes bathe me in clean water
instead of sidling out of your line of vision
but you are too honest, and I am
not accustomed to this
what matters most
is that I am saving my pennies
to take a trip to the center of you
I promise
I will hold what I find there
with gentle hands
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