emerge

the skin of worn lovers feels so differently than the rest. even years after the sex has gone dormant, you can still feel it in a handshake or hug. it ignites in us old fires, if only for a second or two. it's both magnetizing and mesmerizing. we are jolted into old equations, whether their sums ever did measure up right.

it's hard to decipher between love and lust. sometimes near impossible. sometimes it takes years. lifetimes. sometimes we may never know. we spend so much time trying to reconcile. trying to concede. trying to wade through the murky waters of emotion and devotion, through the currents rushing through us every time we say hello. every time we touch.

we wait. we wait it out. we wait to see whether time will resolve our uncertainties. and we wonder if when it does it will be too late. too late to change, too late to speak up, too late to hold tight to what we love.

the skin of worn lovers exists far beyond the lengths any hand can reach. it may be dormant, but never dead. waiting to erupt; like cum, like words, like emotions and devotions. love and lust. rolling and unrolling. every time we say hello.

under dim lights and in cool breezes and out in the streets, i see you. and you say hello.