he wasn't as large as I wanted him.
I felt ferns on my arms itching for bigger hands, warmer fingers, a clumsier embrace
it was a measured affair with careful circles on the inside of my thigh and pomegranate hair gel all sticky between my fingers
but new shoes, old bracelets, caught breath and art framed by tangled curls was trickery that ensnared me without patience
what I want is bigger, dreamed in colors like the sun on the back of my eyelids. I breathe water when I'm with him
thick on the roof of my mouth, blue tipped fingers, grass in my hair and I breathe water
a recreation, a crown of thorns and the wanting
the wanting!
I dreamed it bigger
secrets like lashes to brush away from his cheeks.
and to bottle me up again? he was rubber bands, a past once
to cage him would be to open the door and watch him dissipate
I am not boundless but today I am vapor.
you are not as large as I wanted you