I would like to make a jacket for you to wear. Inside the lining would be sharp nails arranged in such a way that when you wore it without any clothing underneath it would press into your skin and leave marks. You would take off the jacket after an afternoon of errands or a day at work and your skin would be marked with my poems. All along your torso would be delicate braille like reminders of my love. I would read them from across the room as you walked toward me.