lines of linen threaded through
what is bruised and what is yet to bruise
kept out the cold months, covered up
eyes shut to smother back the light
you’re tired in the same way as i am
it gives me a reason to be softer
lips left open to let the air sweeten
over a tongue used to bitterness
you desire like i desire
waiting on something that isn’t hurting
idle hands without ideation
meeting silence from where it grows
heal that which cannot be spoken
i felt it lessen through your spine
every shivering thought cascading
laughter through the pale
you allow me my own stupidity
aimless, unafraid and stumbling
we are more used to punishment
you help me see i don’t always need to flinch reflexively
/// 