Lately                  my                  brain
has been fuzzy and I don't know
how to tell you in c a s u a l
words that I've got this
c    a    n     y    o    n
in  my  left  lung  in
the shape of your glasses
that t h r o b s  and  deepens
every time you are away from me.
What I mean to say is that I love you so
much it scares me,   that the fact that I
have  to  go  to    bed    without  your
fingers in    reaching   distance is the
main       reason  I  have       trouble
sleeping, that I am  obsessed with
the way your  mouth tastes like
home  and how  your   words
have  promises  of  forever
s e e p i n g  out  of their
endings.   Please  don't
f                                    
a            ­    
       l
                                 l
o u t   of   l o v e
with          me.

I wish I could
slip inside your
bones.

but
i
like
the
way
my
skin
feels
under
your
hands

i
a  m
positive
that   you
are  made  of
s  t   a  r   d  u  s  t
and  water  balloons,
oil  pastels  and  the
collecti­on          of
settled     sugar
at             the
b o t  t o m
of      my
c u p s
o     f
t e a