he takes me, something so tarnished and broken and makes me feel complete

if only for a moment, i go from being an ashen speck of coal to being a pearl

and when i sleep my pillows are his arms, oyster shells and i gleam in my dreams in the mirror of his very essence,

i speak with confidence but he knows i falter, a tight rope artist clinging to the rope for dear life, watching the world beneath me constantly destroy and rebuild itself, as i try and fail to regain composure

and although many thoughts have yet to leave my tongue, he knows i believe

that i am not capable of being loved,

but still when i close my eyes his rose petal lips find my ears

and whisper sweet nothings

until awake fades to sleep, and sleeping fades to dreaming