You sped over my tracks
without realizing you are not safe...

Alone
but...

When the night loves,
I am not coddled among blankets...

Your soul is a harvest gold
phone booth...

Moments ago, I dreamt you were
papyrus...

I.
It's unspoken boundaries...

I engrave
who I wish...

Whenever I smell fresh grass being cut
or lilac bushes budding their perfume...

We pass each other handfuls of kettle corn
with nothing short of empathy...

Maybe you have been a calligrapher in all
constellations, and maybe I have missed how...

No one would ever imagine the
waves of terror and raw emotion...

My classmate across the psychology room
finally spoke up...