take my hands with yellow stained fingers
hold them both in a grip so gentle
marvel at their size, the fact that they'll fit
(pull me closer, closer yet)
feel the pitter patter that my heartbeat emitembrace me,
conceal me,
cocoon mein your smell, "lush" and smoke and inkwell,
i'll curl up in its familiarity as if it were catnipcig
are
ttei'd like to think all of these things felt better
than hanging a cigarette from your loose lip
YOU ARE READING
ETIOLATED
Poetrythe silhouettes your eyelashes construct upon slavic cheekbones #42 in poetry 20/07/18 #40 in poems 16/08/18 #34 in poetic 20/12/18 © charlieisaneatfacade 2018