Healers and Romans

Only some people are weight-full.
So solid in their presence they feel no wake from others.

You are a broader human,
A much heavier stance.
You are so comfortable in your own skin that even when you are not,
No one would ever be able to tell.

I am healthier every time I sleep next you.

You feel out words in your mouth, taste their meanings, and only when you know for sure, do you share them with me.

You fired my guard. She’s been let down.
I’ve seen her wandering the streets of LA with nothing but your T-shirt on.
I think it may even be OK to tell you these things.
I think you may even try to stay.

The dragon inside you sleeps in warm sand.
You have learned to make him a softer home.
He is a squatter on stolen land but I know it may be too scary to kick him out, just yet.

I’ve seen your face change 7 different shades of beautiful.
I have never wanted to paint anyone until now.
There isn’t a big enough canvas made.

We have now shared 5 sated moons.
This one rolls in red smoke unaware of its new dirty hue.
It begins a retraction of its light birthing
To settle on the shady side of
The creative current it began.
The dark undertow decides what stays and what is given away.

I look euphoria straight in the eye this time.
I know her ways, she leaves when you become accustomed to her company.
I only foster her feeling,
For ownership is the same as memory.
Neither are results of careful calculation.
Rather reason and meanings’ own false persuasions.
Euphoria keeps unruly company with quiet terror and close lonesome.
They never part but work separate shifts.

You are undoubtedly the culmination of my life spent sorting out
The desired sounds and movements,
The methods and mechanics of the men,
Who lifted my face up with strong hands and perfect wrists.
You took notes from my universal banter and applied the information.
The Alpha star navigates my way across this imaginary sea.
I watch you sleep and wonder if it feels the same for you inside.
Are all your battleships still aligned or do you float like algae?

I never watched anyone sleep before.
I never wanted to.
Now I stare like a museum traveler.
We could meet your artist together,
You could even let him evict the dragon he invited in the first place.
He co-authored a best seller I wish only I could buy.

Mornings are child-like.
The day is sweet and you name me a different high cord each time.
I feel little and strong, yet so well behaved.
I believe in your authority and sign for the borrowed time.
But maybe my being so sure
Will be just enough
To finally rest us…