(work in progress)

The first love of my life never saw me naked.
There was always a parent coming home in half an hour,
Always a little brother in the next room.
Always too much body and not enough time for me to show it.

Instead, I gave him my shoulder, my elbow, the bend of my knee.
I lent him my corners, my edges, the parts of me I could afford to offer,
The parts I had long since given up trying to hide.
He never asked for more.

He gave me back his eyelashes, the back of his neck, his palms.
We held each piece we were given like it was a nectarine that could bruise if we weren't careful.
We collected them like we were trying to build an orchard

inspo// w.i.p :-)