it does not touch yours? How shall I gently
lift it up over you on to other things?
What does it say on your heartbeat? You have captivated me with small words and choices. With your sighs on my neck. Am I nothing to you, a simple sweet fine text that lies on your drawer at night? Or maybe the rocks you step on when you jog through the forest in the morning. I am only there in the background, in the letters, a painting on the wall. Although it is not you missing me because I’m gone, you keep me like static or white noise. Like the sunlight you take for granted. What would it say on your heartbeat? Would there be a place for me?
i think we should just be friends