cease! you are too young
to be throwing pale body's at me.
you make me want to be myself.
when I first saw him my hips wanted every part
of his outsides, on my insides. but he is,
I can only guess a day into sixteen.
shyfaced, blonde bangs far too long.
I can feel my eyes corrupting you.
and when I gets too close, like just a breath
behind me, I can hardly stand it.
since the day I saw him fold a sheet of paper
into a crane, on the wood floor
shoes aside, and heels dug in, it was hopeless.
and by that I mean there was no hope.
this is when my heart skips and tumbles.
and says to me "that, we want in us."