paper white

When at first you held me didn’t you realize

I was a thing you could break

if you where not careful

this heart and this body

were they not precious

and whole

a feast to your soul

and the man’s urges with which you navigate

these mortal coils

akin

to your ailments

my sorrow is no different

and yet you had me lie there stripped of all modesty

the soft elements

against which your cheek and hand were pressed

these things I would only reveal

to a very precious few

and to you

did you know

you where so lucky

or did you think I was finished when I had only just begun?

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