I would never want to keep you 
from the eyes of everyone else,
but you're just out of my reach, 
a reminder carved into me about 
the distance between skins.

Someone else always sees 
what I first saw in you, 
never the infinite layers beneath, 
never the immutable heart I can feel 
beating so perfectly with my own. 

It seems no one cares
to see that side of me, 
I'm all flesh and lies and want,
while you are the soft petals to unfold, 
a code to carefully find with the right words, 
a knot to undo with learned fingertips.

I would never want jealousy 
to push you closer to someone else, 
but you're just out of my reach, 
and every space between us is a reminder 
that I may never know how to let you go.

Someone else always takes 
what I first knew from you, 
never the infinite subtleties beneath, 
never the immutable light inside 
that you eventually spilled over me.

You've known all the sides 
I never let anyone else see, 
but I'm not enough to keep you, 
not enough to keep others away when

I'm all skin and need and surface, 
while you are the soft petals to unfold, 
a carefully guarded lock to turn, 
a knot to undo with attentive fingertips 
in ways I apparently can never learn.

I would never want to let you go, 
come undone from another's presence, 
but you're just out of reach, 
a reminder of how lonely I've grown 
encased in my own skin.