Night fell, silent
She stared out of the window to darkness
He placed his hands on the roundness of her shoulders, curling his fingers to the curve
Inhaling, she rose at the slight embrace
No words spoken
So much said
In that moment

He turned her, in a contradiction of firmness and uncertainty
As she turned to face him
Moonlight reflecting from his eyes, back to hers
She would not break his gaze
Under his shirt, she traced his skin from chest to hips
Ensuring every part of her palm was pressed with flesh
In sync, feeling every breath

Like a child, he made himself small
Crouched against the wall
He held on to the soles of his feet, placing his head on his knee
The relentless torment of vulnerability soaked his bare skin
Destruction tore him down from the outside in
As pain receptors cut and the light dimmed
Shattering porcelain hope in to jagged pieces
Too gentle for this time
Emotions had to die and tears dried
The drought left cracks in his mind
But the universe had other plans
For the harshest conditions and remotest terrain
From just a droplet of rain
Pretty flowers grow

Stop these words.
These meaningless, nonsensical words.
As my mind races I hold my hands out trying to catch any falling letter.
As if I'm drowning, I choke on the logic spilling from my lips.

There was once a man
Who looked at the moon and asked
"Is there anything I could ask,
that you can answer?"
There was no reply,
as expected.

The next morning, there was a dog.
The man crouched down
in front of the dog and asked
"What are you up to today?"
The dog walked past,
as expected.

In the afternoon, there was a girl.
She was sitting on a bench in the park.
The man sat beside her and asked
"Are you waiting for someone?"
She kept gazing at the sunset,
as expected.

Night falls in a pub in the city.
There's a drunken man, had many bottles.
The man approached him and asked
"Is something the matter?"
The man finally collapsed after too much drinks,
as expected.

Lastly, in a room there are antiques.
One is a mirror in an intricate frame.
The man looked at the mirror and asked
"How do you feel today?"
There was no reflection,
as expected.

when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

****** your gods and let them die and fade
paint the sky red with their blood
and their books
and their fables
break down the walls and the gates
that separate heaven and hell
and plant seeds of hope
in the destruction
where there ideas once bloomed
and rebuild the world
in the image of love
let love be the only language you speak
let kindness be the action of your breath
let generosity be the blood of your heart
help those in need
as a gift and not a burden
and in the face of truth
what good are gods
that don’t believe love is all we need
to die
to dream
to live
to hold heaven in our hands
empty of the need of prayer
or redemption
for if all we do is love
what could be found as sin
as we ****** our gods
and give ourselves to love
and only love