carry me home

There's planets in my palms, if you get bored of my skin, I mean you change with the moon. Habitual rituals. Your smiling and light is my only residual. The first time we met, did you go home and think of me too? Our silence settles strangely now and self consciousness is heavy. I know. People overthink things. Women wreak havoc. Men implode. But don't trouble yourself with my opinions. Just remember me in the morning and carry me home.