Touch starved palms on a cursive chest
Black socks on, the only thing left

Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory

Sun and the gods in the candle glass
Pine scenting all the air that passes
Between our lips
I lean to kiss
Your pomegranate fingertips

Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory

Sappho's choir inside my mouth
Praiseful after years of drought
By candlelight
I release
What's let go of me

Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory

Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory
Touch has a memory