flesh tethered to aching bones
pearly smiles
wrinkled skin
curly hair
stretch marks
scars
tattoos
weird laughs
imperfect bodies
awkwardness
what does it mean to be human?
that smell of home
of melted chocolate
coffee breath
the somehow comforting cling
of cigarette smoke
to an old person’s clothes
old books, passed down generations
cologne
shampooed hair
vanilla
cinnamon
those friends with a familiar smell—instantly recognisable
the way bodies link together is so beautiful
crooks of necks
empty and waiting
fingers intertwining
fitting between gaps
making them whole
puzzle pieces
delicate fingertips
lacing through strands of hair
against skin
hugging one another
showing your love
the way you miss someone
hands around backs
around heads
napes of necks
recognising a voice by
the way it rises and falls
accents
dialects
the way hands move as one tells a story
how a thing that someone says
can suddenly become
a part of your vocabulary
the influence we have over one another
footsteps echoing
tapping fingers on tables
chugging water
sunburnt skin—tanning
blushing
hands wrung together
nervously scanning
to evade the faces of others
dependency
the need to be with others
for someone to understand
needing a friendly hand on your back
or a forehead pressed against yours
we delight in others
we found ourselves in other people
humans are impatient—
we always want more
but after everything
we are insecure