I just want to lock my doors to you
Block your number
I have to stop you
From making me not exist

You will notice
It will take a couple of days
You'll saunter in
itty bitty-ize me

on low power sun mode
a curl of brown hair falling
as you turn to look at me
and it all comes together

Neural patterns match
that of my dream
all bones soften
in dark heaving

I close it off
again
I am rolled
again