in rare moments of
instance
I find myself longing
for paintbrush strokes
& ink lines
pressed far down the length
of my spine
your willing human
canvas
at the cost of a loosely
carried dress
I hope you didn't mind
inviting all of my
mess
if at all you could
forgive my
shadow hurricane
I'll grace you with the
weather
& you'll be the king
of all the
rain.