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Poetry, Prose, Stories by electricelephant


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Submitted on
December 2, 2013
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Logistics.
Hair.Smiles.
We're not grown-ups,
And we're not supposed to know how
This all works.
Awkward. Comfort.
I'm okay with
making an idiot of myself in your arms.
After all, we're strangers,
We're not supposed to know
How to do each other's math.
You love me as much as
I like you.
It works because
in every other way
You have the upper hand.
Instruction. Experience.
Can you tell I've never done this before?
Just add water, sleepy arms,
And sharp-edged eyeglasses.
no one gives a shit about
How we met.
A little poem about first times. And good times.
:iconthemidnightwhisp:
TheMidnightWhisp Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Cool. ;) I like this.
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:iconalovesongofinsanity:
alovesongofinsanity Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks!
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