hail

it's that sick in the pit of the stomach feeling
when all you want is someone to rub the apples of your cheeks and tell you that you're beautiful.

and i ask you,"what does it feel like to have so much life in your eyes?"

as the words part my lips i get a tearing suspicion that asking the question was like spreading a secret of a stranger.

and i think to you, "what does it feel like to have a soul" and you say to me, looking into my eyes with your life, "it feels like this"

and i feel it. the sudden warmth that is overtaking the pain that is residing where my soul used to, where for months now all that has been hiding there is the dust of skin

(i wish you didn't hesitate when you kissed me, i wish i hadn't made you, i wish we hadn't pulled back.)

sometimes i have such a vivid imagination.