Ran out of hugs
Ran out of kisses
Ran out of loving

That's
the way it always goes
I am just led to superimpose

There is a way
that the sun
glows gold

There is a cup
that will overflow

There is a good moon
rising
just before the dawn

An owl that
doesn't give a Hoot
out on the lawn

A broken heart that
no amount of kintsugi
and gold
will fill the canyons
of cracks and
eliminate the epicanthic soul
.
epicanthic - a prolongation of the upper eyelid that partially blocks the inner corner eyesight .

Fold me like you always have,
Run your nails to set the creases,
Shape me to the form you crave,
Bend me into the art of your wishes,

My form forever yours to toy with,
I conform to your will and desire,
Expose my surfaces, above or beneath,
I will always be there for you to admire,

I can be flexible or I can be stiff,
That depends on what you want,
I am here to help fill your rift,
The one who says you can when you can’t,

Craft that which you seek of me,
I am but your art, your origami.

i smell your scent,
like mangoes
i tasted them,
unripe & sour.
But I like it.