Stitch for them the seams of an untouched universe,
A mighty wall etched into the fine line of silence and sound.
Let them into the garden of your spring.
Feed them grapefruits and strawberries,
allow them to become sick from your honey as it drips
down onto their lips and seeps into their lungs.
Love them like an old man fixing a violin.
Play their strings beautifully so they never know that you
cannot play an instrument,
and when they finally find out
convince them that you are keen to learn.
Sculpt sweet moonlit kisses onto their shoulder blades
moving down to the angle of their spine and stop
when they shake from anticipation.
Love them like an open book.
Let them in, let them see you in every way they want too.
Become the reflection in their eyes,
the shade that protects them from the sun no matter
how much it burns you.
And once they've fallen,
Cover them in tissue paper promises and
bubble wrap melodies to comfort them when
they find that you,
You have taken them apart.
Like a spoken word analysis find every deep centered
feeling every regret they have ever felt and strip them bare
of the pain.
Wear it around your neck like a medal, and bury the familiarity
so well that it begins to look like lacuna when they hold it up
to the light.
Let your silence speak louder than your words,
and let the hollowness bleed into the veins of empty.
Make them believe that love is Ephemeral.
An enigma not worth finding the answer too and
when the numbness subsides;
Let them grow from the grave you buried for them,
And hope to god they cannot see that you are
simply trying to do the same.
Smile like none of it ever meant a thing to you.
Even if it meant everything.
