What if the Moon was a Triangle
The Sun was a Heart
The Stars were Circles
The Earth was an Oval
And We were all Rectangles
Unable to figure out
How to hold Each Other
Without becoming Squares

Can you run,
Your softened fingers,
Along the outskirts,
Of my brittle bones.

Push them down,
Until they jut out,
And pierce through,
My cracking skin.

Can you hold,
My head under,
The murky depts,
Of darkened water.

Sew my bleeding,
Lips together,
And make sure,
I cannot breathe.