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Staring up at flecks of sun through weaving branches

Our warm bodies were stretched out like coffins

Fingers grazing through hair and pupils slowly shrinking 

To pinpricks of black amongst the frowning blue 

My lips are dry with drought from unsaid verses that might

Cause our eyes to meet less casually, that might prevent

Those hushed glances that fall when our hands brush

In cobbled streets where we resent the time for passing

There's a stammer when I speak but my feet are strong

Beneath me so I let them speak for me, stamp letters

That echo behind me but leaves no prints on the floor

I try to look as if I know just what I'm looking for

And though I love the way the light leaks through trees

I love it more because it warms my freckled shoulders

And makes pools of gold on my knees when I sit up

And see her lying in the shade, thinking I want to kiss her 

But I won't. 

I want to kiss her but I won't.