You’re inanimate.
Imaginary guide, my invincible railing.
You’re my glass slippers, transparent but unbreakable like titanium.
With one look, one soft touch, I am home.
You’re inanimate, yet I’m somehow convinced.
The more I look at you, the more alive you become.
Inanimate cuddler, cottony imaginary guide, wrap your silky soul around mine.
Stop my shaking chills in the fall of winter.
Stop my ambivalence and convince me either which way.
I don’t want to be blind, no matter what they say.
I feel the shifting like a great whale turning a ship.
My motivation is transforming into another habit to break.
I didn’t pocket your heart, only your essence.
You’re inanimate but I’m convinced you’re smiling back at me.




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