unhook my train of thought

glitter glass falls from my eyes

the shine in my eyes falls onto your lips

you can slide under my shirt

and we're not touching

you are little

i am little

we cry in thunderstorms

we cling to each other

but we are not touching

undo my strings

we are acoustic

i won't tell you

that i talk about you

i won't tell you

i stole your shirt

you steal your shirt back

you pull it on

it smells like me

we're touching, almost

i close my eyes

and i am your Polaroid