i look at you and think of marble men
of musculature made from rock
and wonder why michaelangelo
created david so heart-breakingly perfect
knowing such a man couldnt really exist.
you cant touch stone and feel skin
because its hard not to love something beautiful like love itself.
i imagine all this as i glance over when i cant sleep.
i breathe your breaths to calm me but i'm still bored.
before i know it, the diffused morning light is pouring in on you
blurring you out of focus
making you seem farther away from my heart than you really are.
you never know when i cant sleep and its not that you dont care.
illuminated, you look much too peaceful
so i pretend to sleep
squinting at you through my glinting, spidery eyelashes
wishing youd wake up and touch me.
but no, you're just the block of marble
i’m just beginning to chip away
again, not knowing quite my purpose
or what i should expect
nothing but the worst again?
i imagine the stone falling
from your face to your shoulders
to reveal what i only know as heart-breaking imperfection
to discover something i am somehow able to constantly love
and love safely
but you cant touch stone
and feel skin.
02.03