Paper cranes

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We’re in between the lines,
Roads stretching behind us
And beneath us
And ahead of us.

You’re singing quietly,
My mouth is a curved line,
My fingers drawing circles absentmindedly on your inner thigh.

IDAHO.

Your knuckle lightly raps my arm and I laugh,
We’ve been playing this game all weekend.

Then suddenly your lips are on my arm replacing your knuckles,
I can feel your lips pull into a curved line against my skin.

You mumble against my skin,
“Let me kiss you where it hurts”

I’m slamming on the breaks because I’m caught off guard by the red light and the car in front of me and your lips on my arm just beneath my shoulder and my heart which is 

Everywhere,
Especially on my sleeve,
your fingers pushing as you kiss up my arm.

And I know you’re not asking a question but I’m ready with an answer when you say,

“You’re perfect. Except your driving.”

I’m grinning when I tell you to shut up,
Searching for license plates out the window.

You catch my fingers before they hit your shoulder,
Folding them together with yours like origami.

I’m all lines,
Creases and folds.

I’m paper underneath your fingers.

Your hands cupping my face,
Firmly because you’re not afraid I’ll rip.
“You are so god damn kind.”

And I’m trying to read between the lines,
But your lips are on mine, creasing together.

We’re making paper cranes,
Folding into one another,
And legend has it that if we make a thousand,
We’ll get a wish.

That night I’m folding into myself as you face away,
I can feel the bed tremble underneath you,
I’m a paper lotus floating in the river between us.

And I want to tell you that water ruins paper,
But instead I make some more paper cranes,
creasing and folding.

You ask what I’m doing,
And I lightly rap my knuckles against your chest,
“I’m kissing you where it hurts.”


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