You're at the sink. Or by the stove.
I come up quiet from behind.
A kiss between your shoulder blades —
Then cheek to spine. Then peace of mind.
I'd hear your heart — the real one, not
The one I guess from texts and calls.
But we're still two in different spots,
Still living in two separate walls.
Not yet. Not now. But I believe —
One day you'll turn and let me stay.
A kitchen small. A winter eve.
And I won't have to imagine. Kay?
A kiss between your shoulder blades
© Copyright: Евгеша Семёнова, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126040806195
Свидетельство о публикации №126040806195
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