if you could hold your grace in the palm of your hand,
i’m certainly sure that you would.
but i saw it take shape in her palms and move slowly, emitting out
from her chest. out through her throat and then her tongue, teeth and lips.
if only this is how you could carry yourself.
i would love to wear your legs like a belt,
and use your hair to scrub the awful scent out of my nose.
let my ears fill up and drown in the sound of your rare intellect.
more often than not, feel your hand on the small of my back
like a sound that faintly drifts into my window or the leaves that cast a fluttering shadow.
