It bounces in my mind like warm syrup,
a soft weight I can’t measure, can’t hold,
every curve a tide pulling at my focus,
my hands itching for a ghost they’ll never touch.
Like jelly spilling over invisible edges,
it jiggles in my imagination, alive,
and I’m trapped in the way it moves through thought,
shaking my restraint with every memory.
I try to look away, but it laughs at me,
this wobbly obsession I can’t confess,
softness that haunts my waking and my dreaming,
and I’d trade my own skin just to press into it.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 4:42 PM UTC
It bounces in my mind like warm syrup,
a soft weight I can’t measure, can’t hold,
every curve a tide pulling at my focus,
my hands itching for a ghost they’ll never touch.
Like jelly spilling over invisible edges,
it jiggles in my imagination, alive,
and I’m trapped in the way it moves through thought,
shaking my restraint with every memory.
I try to look away, but it laughs at me,
this wobbly obsession I can’t confess,
softness that haunts my waking and my dreaming,
and I’d trade my own skin just to press into it.
