This is my body, which is bound to you

We’ve got lincoln log legs 

Under my heated blanket

Scooching your pillow towards mine

You and I, locked in and loaded up

New Love is: trying to contain the gush so it doesn’t flow into fear

Fear is whispering “naive young still sorta taut, she doesn’t see it yet”

But I see it in my mom and I see it in my dad and I shiver at the cold

And I see something else in the ghost of my papa, and my grandma I didn’t really know

Someone somewhere dead or alive

Is holding their honey’s hand on the couch after dinner

Some still share a bed like a sacrament