It's funny how the heart can
eat away at organs like
a starving, rabid dog.

Your corroded liver
and decaying lungs
are contagious under a false pretense,
my dear.

Your skin reveals
the true hue of that
which makes you be.

You bleed nothing
but grace.
You slow nothing
but a perpetually accelerating pace-

and the ability to slow time
is not an abundant quality.

For you, the world is shrouded,
and such a distorted vision
is nothing to relax about;
I want to see the heights of
towering playground equipment
in your eyes.

You deserve nothing less than
all of the water in lakes I have ever seen.

You deserve nothing less
than continents
encapsulating the altruism
of each
fragile,

timeless,

exhalation.