now

there's just no way of knowing who i might be by the end of the day, so stop looking at me that way and take me to bed before we both lose this kamikaze moment. i'm not a girl who makes promises, it's true, but i'm good at loving in the small spaces. places where travelers seldom go and the cafes are empty, except for the woman who sits in the corner waiting for lovers who pay her in hope.

take my hand, it'll help me decide who i'm going to be when my thighs touch the sheets. if a meow escapes my lips, don't worry, i'm interesting that way. i'm a toddlers book of finger paintings you know. all stapled together and littered with handprints, things that glitter and the accumulated colors of heartscapes. no mistakes, you see.

hold me, here, and we'll look at the moon and her crescent gaps. those, too will change. give her time. the phases are necessary. you'll probably think me a cynic if you knew that i know you're unlikely to rock my world. but my world is beyond the dips and dives of a man's amour. i can't seem to find the commas and full stops to fix the punctuation. and anyway, my hearts always been in italics.

but, let's do it anyway. there's nobody else I need to be right now.