I did not come to touch your heart

Advertisements
My Heart Leaves with You Every Night

My Heart Leaves With You Every Night

What lifelessness brought by a want that seeps:
Not want for one’s hearing, nor lack of sight,
And ev’ry entrail, my existence keeps,
But my heart leaves with you in ev’ry night.

When morning departs as it severs high,
Creating farewells in its weathered roam,
How heavy my chest, in surrendered sigh;
As my heart follows footsteps leading home.

And home is with you, in your trying wake,
In its willing capture, unchained then chained —
Your mornings must give what your evenings take,
Incessantly warming as briskly pained.

Grace me my mornings: my pulses delight,
But dear, my heart follows you ev’ry night.

—A. P.

i did not come to touch your heart

I did not come to touch your heart

I did not come to touch your heart,
as your eyes do not come to experience sight
only to witness mine.
Your fingers were not made
to tremble for my whispers; your voice
was never made only to sigh on my behalf.
And in such resignation of states, your bones and skin
were never made to mesmerize my senses—
just as my senses were never made
to so easily surrender
to such crude contraptions as legs and thighs.

And my mind was never made to fall for lies,
just as your lips were never made to tell them, no.
But people are unpredictable and full of surprises;
you: especially so.

Not one was made to be deserved;
not one reserved, but here we are.
I did come to touch your heart,
but as touches go, I’d rather reach than pull away,
but nothing is made to stay. This we know,
some people come as they
eventually would go;
you: especially so.

— A. P.