Press is a free-verse poem – its form is almost in the shape of a point of a hand being gently pressed down onto, contrasting the fragmented emotions and pain the speaker feels when the specific pressure point in their hand is pressed by their trusted counter-part. The speaker does not pull away but instead lets the counter-part ‘trace’ their ‘finger’ softly over their hand portraying a somewhat unhealthy closeness the speaker feels to their loved one, regardless of any pain inflicted on them.