If a smile is a crack in your skin
and I trip, tumbling into it

(will I land on polished tile or
does your giggle leave a gap)?

If I have blind radars for palms
I'll trace the route
of softness
to wrists.

If I have tines instead of fingers
I'll say sorry,

That faded floral
pattern on your pillow,

(The stretched shapes
on your couch cushion,)

What if those vines were
tentacles or veins
coming out from the
birthmark dark of
your back,

Planting you full of freckles and
smoothing out
your skin?

Those lonely hairs
you leave around
on your sleeves, or
on tables and floors
where you read,

Don't you exist in all the same places?

Isn't that you,
in dust?
This. Is. Amazing.

Honestly, it's so wierd. I love it. Reminds me of Radiohead because of how wierd the lyrics are. I know that's probably not who you were going for but whatever. 10/10.
Ah I loved this.

This was most strong throughout. The only negative of this, for me, was it all a bit too, well, "here's an image. here's an image. here's an image. here's my ending." Strucure wise it felt forced, like you were "this is a poetic technique, I shall implement this one now, and maybe another later". I think it just needs a bit more naturalness. I was about to say stream-of-consciousness, but that's not what I mean. It showed some real qualities but in the way you wrote it, there was this air of trying too hard.

So, that's my thoughts. If you could comment on the one in my sig, I'd appreciate it.

And what's your name? You impressive writer, you. I've liked your last couple, I believe.