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?]