Breadcrumbs for another

It’s been curled into the corners of a smile, an invitation illegible with clear skies eyes that could say I’m inviting if they weren’t so vine-reaching, barrel sitting- corked.

I was ready is the cursive your lips never wrote in a language you knew but the world couldn’t read. I studied that language, lost in limbs and found in sighs.

I knew. and we slept in cold earth with comforter bodies in those shadows- we knew. my favorite sec(re)t, tucked (ligi)on your face