saw you with the boy who has the sun
for the colour of his hair
and i tried to feel the depth of his warmth
but it curdled like 2 day old milk on my refrigerated skin
to me, a trojan horse
whatever happened to getting nude for eachother online
i see the picket fence you’ve put up
but at a foot apart i see the sparks of its barbed wire
is that how he obtained his heat
by holding on until brighter roots sprunge
and did you hold his hand for your heart
or did each pulse remind you of the importance of your image
you use the dew in your blades of grass to wash my blood off of your hands
and use my empty skin as a receptor