you, beautiful boy,
promised patron of romance, the holder of everything i am,
will be, and has been.
(which, inside your mind,
has always been something golden.)
i dream of you, and, in these dreams,
your hand is in mine and we dance
and we dance, spinning in the light
of a sun that does not shine for us,
but we can pretend that it does.
i have never known someone so trustworthy,
and you can separate my atoms with your teeth.
bit by bit.
you can show my eyes new worlds,
i can show yours new suns.
i asked can you really get lost in heaven?
yes, but i want to stay here with you.
