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confession (a poem about a girl)


i think of you and the butterflies, swarming my stomach, 
swim up and up to my throat in a tornado.
my gums are growing flowers, 
making meadows of messages i can only wish to speak to you.
the petals drift down and down to my collarbone,
cracking until i curl into myself, craving your care.
i don’t look at you the same way i look at them.
these hums are not insignificant but they do hurt--
oh how the pain pierces my spine striking every vertebrae of mine!
i stand straight around you, yanked by a string.
there is nothing unnatural, yet i know not how to breathe.
please take my ribs and rip out these intuitions!
make a new person better fit for your fingertips!
i cannot give everything you need; i do not want it all.
at night, i am haunted by the curves of your skeleton
and the soft songs soaking into me from your secrets.
the things i would give to merely dream of you
and turn every future feeling into a fake reality,
untouched by fear (and by you).

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fleurel

an architect of words, trying to build something honest.

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