Call me "baby girl" and hold me slightly tighter.
Enough for me to stay grounded if the wind picked up; my body of paper is tearing and creasing.
Don't run your hand up my shirt.
Kiss me as if you were gasping for air, and I am the only remaining oxygen.
Grab my face as if the gills in my cheeks were starving and you hold the oceans in your palms.
Don't leave me gasping for you.
