darling,
lift that fingertip away from your scars
and trace these ragged map-lines instead
here, here are better roads to take
than loneliness
so maybe your knuckle feels much too bare
but know that our fingers are not made to sit waiting
for a ring –
they are built to hold
so hold – find another set of fingers
grasping for a stronger pair of hands
there is nothing more beautiful than two small limbs
making a home in each other
or better yet, when your bones feel
too big for his too-full arms and too brittle
for the weight of your sadness
hold yourself together, never let go
when the night is too full of night
to see the stars, take a mirror and try to
search for the starstuff in you
you. the point between history and tomorrow
the most graceful of reckonings
the steady hum of *more, more beneath cracking skin
you. the sum of all things soft and true
and remember: those bones were never built to
shoulder the world
they were only ever meant
to carry you