unfettered.

I paint myself in your image.

Read books after my story’s told.

Go to concerts with your arm around my shoulders

like a well-secured life vest.

You lift greek god arms

in a gesture between love and scorn.

I don’t know how to take up less space.

Alternatively,

I paint myself with bold strokes.

Violent red lips and black nails.

Read books as part of a gripping story line.

Go to three concerts for my favorite band.

You don’t exist near enough me

to touch even a fragment of my mind.

I may look at your photograph and then lose that,

too.

Reviews

[Paul Bell]

I suppose they touch us for a time, before we replace them with somebody new.

[PoeticSorcery]

those who touch us have a greater impact on us than we can sometimes imagine they would