summer

sometimes i used to think of what it would be like
to be held by you
or touched
by you

the day was getting tired and i was too
my fingers were stiff and turning purple
yours were warm and pink and i thought
itd be nice to warm up

with our hands intertwined
passive romantic gestures
wherein petty jealousy doesn't interfere
we could link together

i remember lying in quiet cold with you
how soft you were
how we all breathed together
it was soothing and perfect

i think i could've done more
made something but then
couldn't we all
make something out of assumed nothing

be creators of love