in the end,
it just may be
that we are both able
to imagine the same world
                     with the same rules
                          the same love
and so this imagined world
hovers nearby
unwilling or unable
   to be brought
      to fruition.

the monster under my bed
grasped my hand tight,
for it too,
felt my fear
of loneliness

There are secrets buried in the freckles on your elbow.
Stories, memories, dreams
All interwoven with epithelial cells and sunlight.

When I first realized I loved you
I found myself captivated by essence of star you carried in your skin
Like Sirius, embodied.
But now that my eyes have adjusted to your brilliance,
I instead ponder the depths of the tales each freckle could tell.
You are endless, intricate, effervescent man, you
Are your own night sky of constellations.

Tell me a story?