"They aren't as beautiful
as you think," he says.
But they are.
They are so beautiful
That I have nothing more than the urge
To go and create them once again.
I want to watch the dark blood race from them
And see my weights get carried along in the process.

"But they are," I say.
"They are the most beautiful things
That rest upon my body."

He smiles and pulls my sleeve
Back down over them.
"Could it be that you're insane?"

I may indeed be insane,
But right now I feel completely sane.
"Maybe," I say.

His hands wrap around both of mine
And he sits down next to me.
Even though only our hands are touching,
I feel like every inch of our body is interlocked.
I feel his soul bury it's way through mine.
"If you're insane,
I suppose I'm drawn toward insanity."