Ode to an Alien Boy

I sang you a hymn almost ten years ago
The notes still reverberating like guitar-screams in my ears
Keeping me sated until I saw your seaside blue eyes once more.
And when I did, my heart remembered how to beat.

I held my breath, but didn't realise I had been waiting
Until you returned once more, like a summer-hued wave over my soul
A sure hand in mine, a voice more tender and beloved
Than I had let myself remember during nights where I questioned if I could love.

I kissed you beneath a sky full of stars,
Each like a venerable book in a phantasmic library,
A star for each kiss, collecting sparkling words of warmth and love
Held you close like a secret I was never told but remembered like sunlight.

The moment when I knew that I knew you,
Your secrets and your soft scarred heart, the bleeding it did,
The fairness of the planes of your face and the gentleness in your eyes
More than I knew the image that trembled in the mirror.

I kissed you and we fell entangled like roots and branches and wires
Star-awed and far too aware, each nerve a firework --
I had missed missed missed this so much --
I had missed you the way the butterflies missed the sun during their long transformations.

I kissed you and I promised you something more than a maybe
Spiderweb-tenuous and as fragile as glass woven from stars.
I promised you with words and with the slow movement of my lips.
I promised you with my head upon your shoulder, sweet serein sleep.

I sleep well, now. I don't think of what I gave away, for all things must pass.
I think of the feeling of your hand in mine, the colour of your eyes
The warmth of your being blurring with my own, in time and in light,
creating, once again, "ours".