I wear you on my wrist,
The stretched out elastic shells
as soothing as the gleaming silver.
On my ears, the crooked aquamarine a
Reminder I won’t straighten.
You nibble at my ears from miles away.
I wait for the bite, the bruise,
the lingering smell of you on me,
the scent of you and me.
Shrouded in intoxicating idealism,
A spiked environment of numbing hope.