no such thing as verbal when you just sit
next to me, shoulders burdened by the world
and that is my cue to be pliant as you sigh
and press yourself deeper into my being.

(your face buried in the crook of my neck
as i draw small circles on your arm,
funny how you look like a child
with a halo from the moonlight
kissing your crown)

and i apologize
i cannot make the stars and skies
be within your reach
or I, better than your early lovers.

but if you, so gently, lay your bones
where i could keep them until your soul
jumps right into you, ready to conquer once again,
then be your home I shall.

—2:06AM