Your fingers tap metal like soap bubbles exhaling. An ode to
delicate surface tension. Eyes closed, I hear
bubbles burst out of existence, but your fingers
are still and empty in your lap.
If I could catch you! Or taste the fall of
joints releasing, stroke your smile's soft sound and
watch blood splash through your legs.
I want to hold air on my wrist. I want to
capture you making soft and pleasant noises