I love how your skin turns to dust
because I throw rocks at you
you bob and weave and I make it my game
I use your veins to knit
and your arteries to hold back my hair
Your lips are my pillows
and the curves of your body my playground
I run in circles laughing with delight
but stumble over your knuckles
I use your skin to cover my wounds
the ones that my own clumsiness cause
and I soon look like a quilt
a single tear runs down my cheek
and finds a home on your shoulder
the same one that I use to set my drink upon
because the ice in it chills me
I bury myself sweetly in your hair
curled in a ball of warmth and contentment
and there within your security I sleep
still and quiet
dreaming of adventures
where I am the damsel and you the prince