With you
at the edge,
toes in the water,
hands clasped.
The sun passes behind
the clouds.
I nuzzle you.
This is before.
Before my mouth has
known yours.
Before we held each other
naked in my lavender sheets.
The wind picks up
And I slide my feet between
yours.
I don’t feel cold in your
arms.
You lean in and
this won’t be the
last time our lips
meet.
The ducks inch around us.
People pass on their runs,
out to play basketball,
to take pictures in the
golden hour.
But we don’t see them.
All we know is the inches
of lips, the curl of
your cupid’s bow. The edge of
my tongue.
The way we can know eachother, like this.
Just here, with you.
Before.
Danielle Koch 