№4

the light is filigree here
it hides my callouses
see how soft I am and forget them

Am I easy to love here?
Everywhere else is cold but here.
I can feel your hairs against me

You’re so soft —
here and outside.
You smell so light, like a gasp

Should I pray more?
And for what?
And how?

I’ll pray in quiet whispers, then.
One for every spot’s scar.
May I kiss your nosebridge?