1.8.16

If Only You Knew

Your hands
were crisp in mine.

Your fingers,
frosted blades of
grass in my
grip.

My hands,
were crisp
with the realization
that seemed to
be all i
could wrap my head
around.

And your fingers
were melting,
I was taking
small pieces of you.

You’d travel

half a mile,


if only

you knew.

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