I kissed him hard so he wouldn't forget the impressions of my lips.
I pressed my face into his chest expecting it to be like silly putty,
so he would reflect my feelings back.
I was terrified to realize when i pulled away it was distorted and stretched beyond recognition.
Why was i surprised?
Why did i sink so hard into this?
Why did i expect anymore from him, than all the others.
I know what i have seen, what i have heard and felt.
But i continue to fight, and hope for a man not of putty but of clay.
Not to be lose in my hands and make and a cheap transfer,
but to mold with me and shape together
to become one full, content, solid piece of life
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