April

your mapmaker eyes find sense in the paths bending over roads worn and leaf-strewn - over the constellation grid of the freckles on my face and the empty spaces between my fingers where yours are meant to settle and rest after a long day of being

tell me this is enough for you, baby. kiss me like you did on that first nervous day so i know you mean the words you spill to me when all the lights die out

tell me you love me and everything that i entail

tell me this is where i belong, please

i need to hear your voice.