he is a white shadow in the back of my mind,
with spindling sugar-limbs spiraling outwards
like dove wings. lingering in every crevice of my
newborn-pink brain, he is a pleasant cloud of
pearl-white mist, saturating the spongy organ in
delightful daydreams of what we could be.
he is thin, a little too light and airy for a boy, and
his bones protrude like nightmares beneath his skin,
persistent and unwanted.
[i want to peel the thin layer of self-consciousness
from his stained-glass skin and wear it as my own,
i want to absorb all of the shit that is spat in his
pearlescent face and save him from the pain.]
cherry lips contrast against bleached-bone
flesh, making them stand out so cruelly, as if
beckoning me to taste them.
[cherry always has been my favorite flavor]
we could be pale, honey-eyed lovers, and
we could be brave and slightly broken fighters.
[don't you know i'm falling for you?]