What if you thought you deserved every bit of it

Eyes wet to the brim,
then relieved by birthing
tears; one chasing
another down
skin that's as smoothe as
running one's palm carefully
across the surface of a
forest pond so silent it's
warmed by even the
moonlight.

First I think she's moved by
loving me; saying I'm more
than she ever dared dream of.
then I realize she's speaking
of nightmares she has about
losing me; waking up to my
things and I not
being there,
and those tears stop as I
hide her face against my neck,

listening to the fearful ripples
in their body of salt and
sadness inside a heart that
doesn't know that it needs
not be half empty
any more.

A heart skinned alive
Just to prove a love
A soul grated by self-loathing and denial
Finding acceptance for what's shattered
Giving all that's inside 'til you're empty
And all the flesh 'til you're numb
Waiting for a chance
To believe in unspoken promises
Risking, losing your soul to love a shadow
Trusting beyond reason
Yet not at all
Twisted frowns can't be called a smile
And pain is not tantamount to joy

soak it up
more than you know,
spill it out, poetry

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.