"Our parents gave love through their fingertips as we fell asleep,
and we learned to do the same.
You rested your head on my lap and I
stroked the skin behind your ear the way my father
smoothed my hair as a child.
You traced words on my back the way you said your mother
taught you to spell.
Cat. Home. Melody.
I fancied I read a secret message in those letters,
but you were always more literal than I.
As always, I was writing poems
while you were solving equations."
DNJ, “While You Were Solving Equations” (via gaelicpoet)
"Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close."
The Body (Stephen King)