Erase
erase
erase
The feel of your fingertips,
that
f
o
n
d
l
e
with my soul and leave
little post-it notes
that stick to my cheeks,
creating tears that are
                  burning
                and
          spilling
      down
  like hot lava,
that leave me only worrying over
whether the bed sheets
will catch fire,

before you return.