you’d think it’d seem
more of a give rather
than a take to see your eyes
scan through mine beyond the crowd
as if my face wasn’t impressionable
enough to stain your mind with
afterthoughts like some
freckle you can’t shake lose of your skin. 

yet it’s rather comforting knowing
the fate of my being isn’t
rested between your fingertips
like we’re some rugged puppetry
and im yearning for your guidance. 

as if my features being so
unmemorable is a strain of release
with the comforting thought
that everything within you
is imaginitive.