Private Confession

So if this is going to be the first poetry I will ever write to respond his running pace
So let him read
Let him knows how much I want these words to sink into his veins
Fall deeper from the kisses he planted
Radiate all the rising temperature to awaken the heart
As warm as his skin meeting mine

I am not a runner
Neither I run fast
I can never outrace him
I was born not to

But I will teach him a thing or two
Lead him to a place where
Expectations falls, disconnected
Differences appreciated, tolerated
Where the best is brought out of the strangest, the most peculiar

If only he lets me
If only he lets himself accepting the challenge


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