Glitter

I love her like you love Christmas cards and wrapping paper. I love her in theory and for moments at a time. I love her like things you don’t keep.

She is broken and damaged and shattered and I want to run my hands through her hair like glitter and see if it cuts me like broken glass.

She is rough around all her beautiful curves. Eyes always bright from constant crying. I want to kiss her cheeks and see if she tastes like the ocean. Dip my toes in the edges of her water.

I want to explore her and find all her broken seashells or glass splinters both beautiful and dangerous and best tossed away so as not to damage people.

I want to put her in a box under the edge of my bed and pull it out in the middle of the night when I’m alone and watch her shine in the dark under the reflection of the moon. Like broken glass does so well.