words by dominic riccitello

i quiver to your beat
hands which seem lovely
to tango or to fall
a puzzle you called god
i never said love when i hadn’t
i never lied when i should’ve
it was your hands
it was your grasp
it was the pull
i gave you my word
you gave your love
to smash, to use
and then you said never mind
when i just had given you mine