“In cherishing herself, she inspires worship from her Beloved.”
-Lisa Schrader

pale skin


You don’t know how easy

It would be to run these

Cold, chapped fingers through

Your cornsilk hair, count your

Ribs through your cotton

Undershirt, and let you fill

These hands of mine with

Any absent-minded word that

Fell from you in droplets,

But I have a history, darling,

And you look just like a prince

I once knew when my palms

Were soft and open.