Hakidasu

I hate        how you hate                the curving and folding of yourself As if The only things worth loving        are unnatural. I don't like how you paint        targets on your self-esteem,                as trigger points of failure. I don't want to see        you writhing                to wet your toes in shallow waters When I know You could Instead Plunge        into the depths                and find                        yourself                                in flight.

I will give you my dreams. Your kisses said        you wanted them to wrap, safe,        around fingers,                shoulders and waists, enameled and lifted        (fluttering, floating, swimming)                in green                        irises— Eyes, I mean,        though flowers could be                an offering,                        a platitude,                                a token of sincerity, a promise that you        would keep, safe,                what I've entrusted                        as a tremendous secret That you could press to my heart        so I would feel              

A young woman named Gabriella loved making art, and practiced vectoring all day long to become the very best in all her town. But one day, she was completely stumped. She looked around her room, full of art pieces featuring mystical porpoises, sci-fi landscapes of a futuristic Atlantis, and a portrait of Steve Wozniak that looked so real, you could start a conversation with it. But nothing inspired her. Had she really created everything there was to create? Depressed, she looked out her window, and made a wish on a nearby hot dog for inspiration to return to her. The next morning, she sprung out of bed, and used her skill in vectoring to crea