These daft hands fumble at your breathing. My gaze is heavy and it falls on you too frequently.

How often I trip up the stairs only to find myself plunging downward. Seize me sometime so I wont look the fool.

I know you for a canary and within these mines surely you do keep. For your sake I weep, since we simply seek salt. Yet, contained in this carapace is far more than mineral.

I think I could fold you into a walnut’s shell and still I’d love you so. This scent so sweet is small, similar to stature.

Roll out these roads into the sea. I find that often it is the cold we crave.

Orienting within the waves has always been my failing. Yet tossing is traveling to some extent.

Twice it has taken, but now a swimmer I may seem. I marvel at how content you are to dive into the reef.

Fascination is facade, procrastination plays behind these emerald curtains.