Sta.sh
if i could fall in love with you,
i'd yank the blue sky from its perch and wrap it around your
shoulders like grandma's woollen blanket;
i'd extract the spirit from
between your toes and douse your eyes in it, so maybe
then i'd understand what makes your thoughts
turn 'round;
and i'd write the words of
a love-bitten victim on the insides of your wrists, just to
make sure i won't find scratches there in the
morning.
if i could fall in love with you,
i'd glue your sentences on the walls, and tell everyone
the paint was peeling anyway; and i like falling asleep
to the scent of your ink-spelt feelings;
and i'd give away the coffee that
keeps me upright every day, if only to rub the nightmares
from underneath your ragged fingernails;
and maybe i'd even
name a skin-deep butterfly after you because my superstitious nature
would still my fingers; and you'd have claim of my
scars.
if i could fall in love with you,
i would not speak your name anymore because it would taste
too sweet – meant only to be breathed on your neck
with your fingerprints on my waist and
a caution ground between my teeth.
if i could fall in love with you,
i wouldn't:
i don't think you'd like the sky i see.
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