The color of you is the only one that can captivate me whole.
The blanket of ours is the only one I want to drain midnight moonlight out of
When we’re stepping out of our own breath.
I am the details in the fabric
squeezing your ribs.
I am a stitch fallen in the wound drawn across your palm.
And listen, obey
Because I’m giving in to toying pills with my fingers,
To running downstream,
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.