if i were but a freckle on your cheek
an eyelash atop great waves of your boiling tears
if I were but a speck of dust resting on a hair just below your perfect lip
i would die knowing that life itself was nothing
my heart, a wasted wounded ***** of passion, could stop beating.
The air could choke out from my lungs and leave me.
The blood the beats in my throat when your hand brushes mine
could drain from a slow and shallow pore in my back
and i would leave a trail of myself as i followed blindly after the moment
when i knew i loved you more than everything.
and in knowing for that beautiful moment
a crack in the ruins of so little time that is given to us
I was a part of you.
I became your heartbeat.
I shared the air you breathe.
I felt your blood in the place of mine.
and in knowing I was a part of you for an instant
one second in a mass of hours
the first leaf that falls in a forest before the winter ****.
Your miracle was at my fingertips but for a moment.
and I knew that if you asked it of me, the world would be yours.
because i shared you for that moment
my body was no longer my own
and every vein in my body was tied in lovely knots around your soft wrists
and around your perfect ankles.
A person could live a lifetime and never know
a miracle like you.