awrongfit

Drawing spirals on your feet,
lazy afternoon of selfish thoughts and quilted dreams,
you stepped down in bare soles, and passed through reality,
into my arms, embraced in saccharine kisses,
awrongfit.
I preferred gazing up at you, on an alter
of jagged stones and lung-ripping turquoise, from a distance,
slightly separated, traveling on a breath, to see which direction you faced,
and knowing if front turned to back,
you had searched for me too.