Your fingers crawl over to hope,
A hand finds meaning in another,
Warmth of two bodies pouring into each other,
Eyes searching, stolen glances
Then there is comfort of a hand that feels just like yours,
Then love turns darker,
Like blood flowing deep red and then drying up, just a scab
It turns the color of hopelessness.
Epiphanies of the meaningless of it.
Your hand sweating in theirs.
The warmth singeing your skin
Eyes darting away.
All so Uncomfortable.