Jacket Weather

You bought a leather jacket yesterday.
I cannot afford to imagine you 
pulling it over my shoulders,
but I did, and it’s stupid because
I cannot allow myself to think of
kissing the savageness out of you,
pulling the splinters out of your skin
one by one. Who taught you to harden
into indifference? Who taught you 
to cultivate the serrated edge? 
In a dream, you trace my ankles
so lightly I hardly feel it. You are tender
for the first time and my lips
leaving soft impression marks.
You never allowed me to love you,
but I could have. 
god, I would have.