i miss the dreamy
in your eyes.
i miss seeing paris
in your fingers.
rusted colorcoded
roughed up
edges.
those fingers
are soft when
they touch me.
i want to close me
up.
don't want
the intoxication
in you.
you'll suffocate me
in cold beach nights
sandy shores
and bonfires
built to burn
me down
so i forget
that
i miss the
dreamy in
your eyes.
if soft isn't
your color.
if you can't
see me clothed
in the dusk
sky.
if it hurts
too much
to remember
how to speak.
i won't
ask you to
be soft for me.
your edges
are
serrated.
i know
they're
meant
to hurt.
but you're
lonely.
i won't ask
to be your
sandpaper.
but i want
to file down
the serration.
at least.
don't be soft for me
unless you want
to cry easy.
but at least touch me
gentle.
