Attached

As soon as I call you mine, I start picking you apart
Like every pore I clean and each cheek I pinch for blush

I love you like I love my own arm:
a necessity, a piece of me,
a thankless job to be—

Were you a limb separate from me (free standing
shoulder and soft fingers)

you could stroke my arm

or hold my hand

and walk away on fingertips

and I would chase you

I'd reach out and pull you back

and ask if you would stay

But as long as you are mine, you're me

which means: I beat us both the same