Imperfection

Your broken bones are
Paramount; please don't
Hide them beneath
Your skin.

Because otherwise how will you
Ever get out, and how will I ever
Get in?

The dust in the creases of your fingertips
Tells a story; please don't brush
It away.

I want to feel it against my own fingers,
When I take your hand and ask you
To stay.

Your dew drop eyes are
Infinite; please don't
Blink away
Your tears.

Because I want to brush them
Away for you; I want to
Understand your fears.

The crooked quirk in your smile
Sings a song; please don't replace
It with a frown.

I want to smile into the jolt of your lips
As I promise to never
Let you down.

Your ill-fitting skin is
Fitting; please don't
Shrug out of it
Into a disguise.

Because I want to learn its every
Insignificant flaw; I want to sail
The oceans in your eyes.

I will show you the ugliness of
My broken bones, and tell you stories
Of the dust on my hands.
I will share with you my saltwater sins,
Smiling as we sail in each other's eyes
To foreign lands -
Our palms mapping the continents
In each other's skin,
Tracing flaws like constellations,
That paint the soul within.