why blush when you can dance;
the reddened clasp of hand on cheek
ignites a tremble of a waltz in the air around us.
your heart has loosened its strings,
dangles as it does in the hollow of your chest.
i am tentative in my approach,
the bones in my feet as fragile as
the whole of a bird's skeleton.
the breath in my mouth as breakable
as shattered glass,
i fear cutting my tongue
on what i'm afraid to say.

your marrow light as helium,
all i ask is you do not float away from me.
a cocktail of chemicals my brain drinks;
my stomach fills with the toxins of touch too easily.
it cannot be helped that i fall a little in love
with everyone who leaves their fingerprints on me;
but is there anyone willing to dance with my blush,
to create a menagerie of skin
pink as the petals i fill my hair with;
i am in my own mind a nymph,
a version of persephone not yet lost
to fire and brimstone,
still at ease with the world because it has not yet abandoned me,
not unlike the fashion in which i imagine you doing
with your grasp tight on a watered-down apology.