Insecure Poem by Lyndsey Grant

We converse best
Through sex
And texts
And when I am not with you
I only want to be in your arms
That fold around me
And warm me
Your soft pecks against my neck
As your fingers linger on my breast
And then we rest
I fetal
You open armed
And I long to know
What you are thinking
Silence that cuts through loneliness
Illuminates our bodies
Flickering desire
But for what?
Or for whom?
My mind looms into a spiral of doubt
I fear that I will start to like this
Become comfortable
In a skin I have never worn
I fear that I will take on more
Than you are willing to give
So I give further than I should
I want more than maybe you could
Ever have to offer
So shall I grow softer?
And allow what is to be
To be
Or do I begin to freeze
Icicles that drip into my dreams
And wean on the teat of mine
Or yours
Or our
Insecurities