I’ll let you see me. And I can shed a cloak like stardust if you promise the darkness won’t scare you away. I know it is frightening to see truth turn from white to midnight onyx in the span of half a day. I could be gentle too, and soft like morning skies. An alabaster shell you’ve polished well, a haven for saltwater tides. But I will fold and curl and settle along the veins wrapped in your skin. I’ll nest and breathe and home myself in pieces you’re terrified to miss. And when the sun rises and greets your dawning skin, I too shall find a path along your bones and leave before the light comes in.