paper.
your skin, it's like paper;
pale, translucent, fragile, and yet --
it comes from something so strong.
i wanted to write all over you, make you
mine
but i couldn't, out of fear you'd shred
i was never good with words, i know, but try to understand --
it's the thought that counts
and the thoughts i pen down
on this, my temporary
paper
and you'll never read this, jacobson, but you should know; t.j.