You are like tangible light
I dream of holding you tight
A fine kind of paper soul
Asking me to take a hold
A sheet of elsewhere to reach
Such delicate lines to breach
One touch is all I desire
It's just that my hands are
On fire
I am so tired she said
Of fitting in this shiny dress
You know I never crossed a line
Her paper eyes were almost crying
You know I'd love to ease your pain
But at my touch you'll be gone in a flame
Yes she said please take me higher
But all I could do was stand there with hands
On fire
