two handfuls

I am two handfuls of a woman
Too much for most, just right for none.
I overflow small spaces
and drown in oceans of love.
Two hands cannot carry my fire
without burning
to ash.

I remember every touch,
speak in moans and gasped silences.
I give nothing, then everything at once
never to be yours,
always to be felt.

Trace me gently,
write your name in featherlight bruises under my skin.