Paler

It is ridiculous,

the twisting of my tongue.

I think of you like the moon and stars has been brought down to eyeline-

yet I shift, and quicksilver insults unfurl beneath my enamel cage.

I release a heavy, puffing sigh. It feels like gunpowder to me. You don't even flinch at the residue- starlight and pure- in front of your feet.

You eye me strangely as I bow at the waist and grapple at my knees.

But you don't understand. You are so wonderfully oblivious, so when you ask my problem and I say you, you laugh like it's a joke.

But you don't hear my heart thrumming in my ears. Nor feel my anxiety rattling.

Both heavy hands on the cages around my heart- dark, and trying to expose itself- shaking.

I fight to keep you from my mind, and I spend most of my time like this.

So much so I forget how to spindle my own tales to you- eyes bright and watching.

You asked me, innocent, to describe the difference between your blue eyes and another's.

I wanted to call yours lovely. I wanted to say they'd capsize a dozen men. I don't; I just say they're paler.

Paler? As though they could ever dwindle?