9.30.22 // To Be Soft

I want to be soft.
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Sometimes I want to be cashmere, not wool.
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Sometimes I want to be the soft fabric you yearn for, the textile you can't help but run your hands across in sweet adoration, the fibers you desperately want to feel wrapped around you like the love you so deeply deserve. Wool is so beautifully functional, but I'd want to be the cashmere you're unafraid to wear because you'd be proud of the soft and the delicate, that I am.
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Sometimes I want to be so soft that my form all but dispurses.
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My atoms melt and separate to float on the wind. I would dance around you on sweet summer breezes and kiss your red cold cheeks while I protected you from the chilly mountain air. But even amongst the elements, I would be soft, I wouldn't be rigid, I wouldn't be molded, I wouldn't be hard.
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However.
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I can't be cashmere.
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I can't be atoms floating on the breeze.
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But, I can be soft.
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I can be somebody you yearn for, I can be somebody you can't help but run your hands across in sweet adoration, I can be somebody you desperately want to feel wrapped around you like the love you so deeply deserve. I can be somebody you're proud of because I'm soft and delicate.
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I can be somebody who dances around you on sweet summer breezes. I can be somebody who kisses your red cold cheeks while I protect you from the chilly mountain air. I can be soft, I don't have to be rigid, I don't need to be molded, I won't be hard.