Not only could I feel the tips of his hair
I could scrape my fingernails along his clavicle
Without a flinch, no hesitation
His breathing did not falter in its rhythm
But in mine so many questions built
Upon each other and time
Eludes memory like this.
I could feel their burden being pressed down
Onto the next, adding to
This Tower of Babel
Without God to interfere.
Instead it just collapsed.
Each brick crumbled under excruciating weight
But he was so close.
Thereafter it was no longer the same.
He bled where traces of my touch lingered
He tried to wash away that time
I bandaged his ankle but it purely burned
Beneath the pouring shower head
And made him gasp.
Every touch I made carefully
He learned my intent to plant bombs
Under his skin and he felt so much pain
When he tried to tear them out.
But he had been so close.
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