When a Boy Tells You He Loves You

Because a boy has never handed those words to you
Like crushed blackberries in the palms of his hands
Firm, young, full
Waiting to taste sweet with you
His arms, creeping vines, begging to touch the sun in your face,
Saying “Here, take everything I have ever touched to be closer to you”
His breath, waiting to be folded into a love note passed in between the nape of your neck and his front teeth

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