Beneath the skin you carry something delicate.
You carry the world on your shoulders but keep your face in
another realm.
He painted stripes across his arms and called himself a Tiger:
thirsty for the taste of blood.
Within your eyes there is a glow you carry, although distant
it is still present.
You bury all you find in a hole behind the ocean, somewhere
only you can find.
And as my body aged his did not and he carved tattoos into
his skin,
“Counting years.” he said.
And when the wind blows pettiness into his eyes he wipes it
away, away without shame.
With fingers tangled beyond the roots of a tree he yanked it
from its earth.
Tears strode from its bark as it screamed, crying, pained.
The stars would not fall for him, they would fall around him
and he would bury his head in his
hands and smile.
Releasing what was mine into his palms he would hold it and
carry it as his own.
And he painted on my skin the colors of a Butterfly and told
me to remain as I was.
He vanished and left a jaded stone behind,
He said his time had come.
I searched for the hole behind the ocean and buried the gem
for him.
Knowing you would not return is what left me with this
strength.
You’ve aged without aging and were never really here.
He painted his kisses upon skin within my dreams and
vanished without a trace.
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