THE DAY I LOVED YOU

it was near my sixteenth birth
as the sky kissed the moon
in the shadows of mothers eyes,
she dared not to make a bloom—
her stars could not see us,
the sea could not reach us,
chiron amidst his slumbers,
we laughed and kissed and danced
in the memory of the sun,

and with your hands upon me
you knew the very rhythm i dreamt about
and loved the freckles upon my skin,
the sun which my mother was devoid of.
you buried yourself in my mouth
which was red with love and kisses,
and drank up my happiness
and loved all that i had preached.

"yes," you said
silent and soft
as though the words were a
sacred treasure, only to spew
from your lips in rarity and
infrequent times, and i
loved the words upon your lips,
the curve of your mouth and the
crook of your nose, the flare of
your nostrils, the fall of your hair—

—your honey skin and mine milky
white, both kissed by the sun and
soaked in love, my hair of
blonde and strands, gold,
my eyes of blue amidst yours of
earth and soft and warmth,
ice against heat,
water against fire,
you and i, my patroclus,
i whispered into the crook of your
neck: "you own me,
for i am yours, wholly and whole
and complete."

shuddering beneath the painted stars
of the sky, which dangled from the
ceiling like apples on trees,
our fingers traced the lining of
one another, remembering the touch,
remembering the frame.
you were art, and still are now,
and even with you gone i still
know your lining:
the thigh so thick,
the honey of your skin,
the warmth of your eyes,
the red of your lips.

you mortal sinner,
damned to me,
so loving and kind,
so exuberant and taunting—

you smile to me
knowing my mother can not see
that the thing she did not want
has blossomed into the seams
of our youthful hearts
like a seed in the soil
and with the water of the earth
that seed will grow.

i say this then, and i say it again, i love you, i love you, i love you.