Some people are made to break.
Some people are made to last.
Some people are made out of brittle malachite,
And soft, aluminum filigree.
Others are made from obsidian and jade,
Carved agate cameos for hearts.
But you,
You're made from the most refined lapis,
Crystal clear sapphire of all colors,
With steel and platinum filigree and carvings.
Your heart is warm and soft,
Mainly because it's made up of
Constellations and gold.
And your walls are made out of
Steel and platinum, the same. It drizzles and mists too often behind them.
Your eyes take from your heart,
That very same gold struggling to show
Behind waves of blue skies
That yearn to gloss over the fog
Behind those steel and platinum walls.
But I've found a disparity in your defenses,
A sliver of a crack, that's not too big, but enough so that
I may wriggle through.
And despite my attempts,
Successful or otherwise,
To break down your walls,
When I lay before you,
Naked and vulnerable,
It is not steel nor stone I feel against the pale nervousness of my skin.
Instead, I feel the warmth of constellations, and the curious softness of gold.
Your touch is made up of galaxies,
And so I must ask,
Make me your universe.