he does not know
how soft his lips are
how tender pressed against mine
how the corners of his eyes crinkle
when he shuts them to put his face onto mine
how my lipgloss leaves sparkles on his nose
how his eyelashes tickle my cheekbones
all these little things he does not know

don't cry,
little me...
youll shed your calloused skin
one day,
hatching out of
your candy-wrapper cocoon
of dreams and ribbon in
red,
      white,
               and pink,  
.
.
.

so
give your jaws a rest,

undo your sewn on smile,
with your
skin collapsing on
your cheekbones and
empty eyeholes,
worn,
tired, and d u s t y
.


you will be fine.