Out of reasons

oh, man, oh lad,

my bright star,

so many things you are,

oh,

brother

I never had,

lover

I may have lost

long ago,

maybe to war,

maybe to the frost!

oh,

in my travail

to explain the secret

of your velvet

words may fail,

yet I maybe now understand

and love how you grasped

my heart

with this hand,

yet it was never ripped apart,

but rather caressed

with grace

and laid to rest

in the calm

of your palm,

kept in place!

one that feels as right

as the night,

oh,

one that is like home,

a figure drawn

in between every fingertip

by a grip

just enough tight

so that I still stand

grown

yet unborn,

so unsure yet so aware 

of the cost,

for I feel

here still,

this gift

a thing more precious

than all living treasures

and their glow

and oh, so soft

that I would never let go!

05/11/2020