We breathe together, feather light and fluttered eyes—one more kiss before we part down the middle, two heart beats
Stained sheets and crumpled sleeves—we cling like autumn leaves, fade to winter trees. Speckled with bleach, watch the heat or we'll catch fire
Shedding threads, your tattered skin, worn to the bone from the hurricane—I'm the doe on the hood of your car, screaming a silent prayer:
I just need some Space.