let me love
you, quietly.
hold the
words that
you're too
afraid to say;
paint your
soft skin pink
with fingertips.
i would like
to share this
morning light
that slowly
warms your
eyes, wrists,
your reticent
smile.
give me
the space to
name you
wonderful, to
fix lamps and
rosy lights in
the grey parts
of you. you and
i could make
spaceships out
of the papers
piling at
your desk.
real spaceships
that go to
real places.
if it's okay, i
would like to
make surreal
plans with you.
make cotton
skirts and shirts
for us to wear
to the seaside.
let me kiss
the parts
of you that
you don't love.
let me love
them, quietly.
make the
coffee cups
and flowerpots
into loved ones.
run my
fingers through
your hair.
pack
sandwiches
and notebooks
for the
spaceship.