you were the heaviest weight in my legs when i sunk to the sediment below the surface, the salted winds birthing vacancies in my stomach; a paler form of death, light my hands on fire; a sweeter breath of black, pull me further under.
i have always been a salamander, losing myself only to grow once more. i am the curtains in our window, densely drawn and writhing like water snakes, simply sheer films of fabric dancing under the pretense of being something special. i hope someday you love me; i hope someday i'm worth loving. for now, i am a seashell ring wrung round my finger, imprinted with starfish and clenching over the veins at the knuckle. here, i wait.
you are infinite, you are mountains. i still spit rocks from the dream i had a week ago where i kissed you and you held me and it wasn't romantic but it was nice. i am still uncomfortable with my waist and jaw and the music i can feel you sing. you are stones and trees, breath in the weighted skyline. i like the way i