I held him
like the sky
holds the moon:
through the night.

He turned my arms
to jasmine:
tangled himself
in my veins
[I mean vines]
until I grew
around his shape,
and then cut himself
free
come sunrise.

I still reach for him
in the dark:
the reckless god boy
in star-child clothing;
loose lipped
and wonder-eyed.