Lace Around Her Heart

Only if she could see herself, and find the way she works. 
To listen and to hear herself, and feel the light of her own worth.
So she must crave herself, it's something that she needs. 

Touch and touch and be alone, owing all that she is to greed. 
Let her welcome the extra skin, basking in toffee colored warmth. 
Let her run fingers through her hair, the way that only she knows. 

Let her live in fear of someone else, with only the intent of love. 
Only she will play her body, gently, like she's an instrument of pleasure
drowning out the loudness of life moving on and on without her. 

She'll treat her heart like lingerie and steal herself, like treasure.