i trickle where he
needs me and ooze where he
doesn’t want me, blistering

blistering like i always have on my fingertips,
swaying and tripping, pinching him when
he puts cigarettes out on himself—

relishing in the hypocrisy.
i feel his aura, resisting against me like magnets,
softening my skin like butter and

pleading with me to keep quiet,
he’d never admit that he’s scared but
he cries when the wind is too strong and

his shell walks beside me.
i cry when i'm scared
and i can't seem to reach him,

abrasive. abrasive, only in theory.
id let these fluorescent lights touch every inch of me.