unfinished and derived from oranges

I want, in no particular order

to invert your gaze, the way you look at memelding our masks until obsession with eachother becomes
introspection into the other
to shave your skin into a sheet thin as a sigh
of satisfaction
to wrap your muscles around me for warmth
and style on the tundra
to house myself in your ribcage, to be entirely inside of you
to have a home of my own
to reorganise all of your component cells into paper dolls
so that I may play with you, innocent and unstigmatised
to weave your DNA into decorative pillow covers, useless
save for a comfort in my later years
to string your atoms along a thread to make a necklace for my mother
that she should be impressed
to collect whatever meager fluids remain and put them in the most loving centrifugeto separate biology from ectoplasm from gyzym from liquid B# from inspiration
and satisfy my mind on your percentages
to determine your exact cosmic frequency, then send out an inter-agency warming that it connects straight to a bomb and is not to be touchedtamperedwithinanywayshapeorform areweclear?
leaving only me to tune in