hav-och-sky

[hav-och-sky]

[hav-och-sky]

you are cold blue and four a.m. fog, drifting through lamplight like jellyfish ghosts. you are the dark shadow of a glowing smile, cutting into your cheeks. you’re a mutter in my peripheral. your eyes are silvery sea and your skin is acne like ice red freckles and frostladen clouds hanging low over the glass mirror lake. you are very beautiful, and i have only these glimpses clutched close and jealously to my chest, fisted hands and hunched shoulders. i puzzle over your quick steps, your slanted shoulders, your arrow eyes. i still want more.