I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger,
Before you had bled yourself dry.
I'd like to know the kinder you,
The softer you,
To be me and you,
You and I.
I imagine myself saving you,
Shielding you,
Keeping you
I could bottle the ocean for you
But it would only make you thirst more
And I would cut out my eye had I looked at you wrong
But you'd no longer think I was pretty
I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger,
When fists were only for bumps
And paper, scissors, rock
When my bruises came only
From climbing trees and beanstalks
I sometimes fantasize about meeting you younger
Before the sun had scorched you red
The burn that returned in your anger
The burn that you kissed on my cheek
The youth are richer,
You know as well as I
I wish I met you younger
When eyes were dry