Lizzy Burnam 🐞

Can I be frank? 
Can I howl to you at midnight 
when the moon is drunk 
and I’m awake? 

Can I think of you 
while stirring honey into tea? 
Can I hold the spoon 
in my left hand just to see 
if it feels strange? 

Can I send you sad songs 
and expect you to have a listen? 
Can I write you cloying poems 
and expect you to read? 

Can I kiss you there 
without asking your permission? 
Can I touch you here? 
And here? 
And here? 

Can I call you my illusion, 
my delusion, 
my addiction? 

Can I give you gifts 
like homemade chili, 
good advice, 
and tiny paper cranes? 

Can I trust you 
with my pleasure 
and my pain? 

Can I try again? 

Can we play a game?