I could change your life, you know.
I could kiss you and unravel the second skin you've slipped on to hide your pain, your loneliness-
Beautiful as a canvas, painted so that none of the seams can be seen,
I could free you of it for a moment.
I could drop it to the floor like silk, and you would breathe like the domed sky out west-
Blue and unbroken and vast enough to swallow the earth.
I could look at you and you wouldn't flinch, wouldn't crumble;
I would touch you with tenderness.
What do you hold inside?
I wonder if you are a storm, or a forest fire. A river perhaps.
I never turn my head unless I feel gravity: You are vast inside, and it tugs at me.
Tell me who you are. Your secrets, your dreams.
I could change your life, you know.