How close and how warm could we become?
Hold up your mirror and I'll follow suit.
And you won’t mind if I close my eyes?
Surely, you too have things that singe.
Things that glow.
Things that mutter a rhythmic treble in the pit of your stomach.
I don’t mind- I don’t mind if we’re all rag dolls with mismatched parts.
I could’ve sworn I saw fabric matching my own on someone else.A few times actually.
And I didn’t mind.
You loved a language you didn’t know.
Swayed to grooves more foreign than gentle gestures and soft smiles.
And if love means to be shattered and shared.
Flipped and polished.
Killed and made new.
Then I’ll be as transparent as I can be.
Just let me close my eyes sometimes.