if you don't know now

when it bleeds
i can track it,
with my palms,
to where it wanders [dystopian muse]
and i push it back, i press,
i try to coerce
it back
inside my eyes, my arms, my fingertips.
sometimes
there is no hiding,
there is no return.
and sometimes i drop the layers, one by one,
and they fade.
and in my sea-faring heart,
i realize, i accept,
and it comes out, slowly, like that [when it bleeds]
in little ways,
sometimes as simple as a smile
that i can't tame [when i think of it].
it's been a long distance, all this way, to you.
[i can track it, with my palms]