If you were palpable
Then I could cup my hand around your cheek
And shooting stars would tear down my skin
Like a game of pinball they would ricochet off every pore
If you were palpable
I could curl my hand around yours
And rub soothing circles that orbited your knuckles
Secretly smoothing an infinity between the shallow dips
And vanilla bones
If you were palpable
My fingers could run lanes through your hair
Slowly parting endless soft dark waves
With nails like crescent moons that
Lightly graze the night sky
If you were palpable