Touch starved palms on a cursive chest
Black socks on, the only thing left
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Sun and the gods in the candle glass
Pine scenting all the air that passes
Between our lips
I lean to kiss
Your pomegranate fingertips
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Sappho's choir inside my mouth
Praiseful after years of drought
By candlelight
I release
What's let go of me
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
