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.

Don't you leave now,
I'm impatient,
Not a patient in this ward.
Where's my mother?
I feel smothered,
"Not another word from you."
Undeveloped,
I'm enveloped,
Folded in a hazel haze.
A prism prison
Built precision,
Predicated without trust.
My orphan organs
Will demand
Vital signs,
And vitamins.
Leer from your chest,
Scream with my eye,
"Let me in."
"Let me in."
"Let me in."

So clean and
Oblique in stature.
Quiet as a pulse.

You're fluent in burns,
The way planets are fluent
In flight.
Not like birds,
Like cherubs.

The whipped dark marble,
Like metal butter,
Splashes a gate
Between us and
The garden maze.