You say you’re
flawed
and my compliments will not thaw
the fear fate has placed in front of you
and you willingly fell into
you listened
punished yourself
for perfection.
Yes.
Perfection.
No objections because
you are everything I’ve ever thought about
touching
because you make me want to
carve my name into your back
with a single fingernail
and sail into you
drift over your feather flesh
sift through your golden hair
and care not for anything else
but you.
Your ocean eyes carry me
to more beautiful islands
than a ship could ever find.
Your whispers kiss my ears
softer than the down in the pillows
we drown our bodies in.
I plead to keep you
for you to be mine
because to keep something so perfect
is to have an angel in my palm.
And an angel you are to me,
so free
forever mine you would be,
if only I could be as beautiful as you are
to me.

And maybe it was that we sat
in an empty church
and God was making time turn
and you shine.
All I know is your hands
beautifully pale
pressed down and made music
lullaby bells
your hands.
I wanted to touch
but I watched instead because
you can’t touch the hands of angels.
But you can hear them play.
The keys sank and my soul
flew
and you just closed your eyes
as if this chiming ballad
was your voice and you
have been silent for much too long.
I played after you
and I knew you could speak the same way because
you answered
with those soft hands.
In this way we spoke
and confessed
to each other for hours
without saying a
word.