pony rain (dec 25 + jan 26)
a few on my cheeks, my forehead
and two bruised between my legs.
they don’t carry your name,
but the heat of your breath.
every time we consume each other
and lie within the same borders,
we pin time briefly
in a tender, damp hold.
it does scare me
how familiar it feels.
if holding without doing
would undo us.
if i could know it’s you
if all you did was stay.
we wouldn’t stand a chance
outside the museum spotlight,
both of us without watch.
not because i lack the courage,
but because i know their shape.
but i imagine instead:
with careful hands,
your name written on my skin,
your eyes on my face
as if it were part of the body
you already learned.
it began in october.
the fall isn’t loyal
—it expires.
and the cold doesn’t hurt
—it only makes room.
i’d want to meet you,
see what the fuss is about.
i’d like to prove everyone wrong, but
you laugh like a steering wheel,
drive straight through silence
like it’s nothing.
so i guess it would be
easy to fall for you,
us exchanging looks
from across the room.
i make a dumb gesture
and pretend to tell you:
i wish i was your person.
easy to want to sleep by you.
your skin is soft, your embrace tight.
you warm my hands like a mantis.
seeing your teeth shine in the dark
feels like opening the door
to a secret cabin and finally
you, making sense to me.
it’d be easy to love you,
to hold your cheeks
between warm hands,
to read your chest the way
i read the spine of that book,
with interest, scribbling the edges,
leaving notes to return to.
it’d be easy to care for you:
to water down your liquor
when you’ve had too much,
to lift your eyelids out of the fog
if you didn’t want to cry.
to hold your hand, your manners intact,
to stop you,
with a tender kiss.
but you want a written chapter
in the story of a man.
and i am a growing girl—
a passing train, a glance.
my falls follow a river.
your rain enters the ground.
that’s why
it’d be easy to love you.
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