fading, into the horizon;
slipping through his fingers like smoke that burns and blisters
and he was a coward for not holding on tighter.
you’re a falling angel
shoulder blades baring testimony of stripped wings;
they bleed and, oh, they’ll never stop bleeding,
the land where you lie rusted with chrysanthemums.
you, skin strewn with spiderweb cracks;
fragile china, not yet broken
a steel heart with a glass core:
that one careless touch could shatter you, destroy you.
do you believe in gravity—
that it can tear apart as much as it draws together?
what if i could save you?
we’re two sides of a coin; we’re life and death.
i love you:
i love the scars around your lips and throat that i kissed so many times
like the remnants of lashes of fire;
your soul, anchored by grief: your shoulders, heavy with burden.
i love every part of you,
and when the golden sun burns bright and brilliant against the crimson heavens,
when the violet velvet night sky is no more,
i’ll come back for you.
Photographer: Jessica Xiong