Don’t let me forget that I am the combination of infinite potentials–

Days don’t  have have to burn me like a wick–

I am wax sculptures.

I am the uncharted territories of my thumb prints.

Get lost in my finger labyrinths with me.

We’ll eat biscuits with my centaurs.

We’ll take the same wrong path twice and imagine

our old foot prints belonged to other travelers.

At night we’ll set up camp on my ring finger.

We’ll make promises and marshmallows.

We can get lost in our same foot prints

in the morning

again.