my star in the sky
'i want to save you from your sorrow' - 'the only thing', sufjan stevens
in some ways, my lover rivals my god so i guess that makes him the devil.
one day the fuse in his chest will blow, and i’ll be the only one not taking cover. i’m in love with the way he bares his teeth in every smile. he knows something the rest of us don’t, and it fills my body with electricity. why would i shy away from that?
i couldn’t hide from my lover even if i wanted to. he has a smile so bright he could be apollo, but i’d like to keep him away from the greek tragedies. after all, he’s one of the reasons why i chose the desert: to pretend the shining sun is my lover’s blinding smile, to forever wrap myself in the heat that is his embrace.
like me, my boy is hungry. his hands are constantly grabbing, longing to always hold me. if he could he’d place me behind his rib. perhaps he could create something more, something so divine there would be no words to describe it. but that’s not how the devil works, though sometimes the devil is the holiest being for miles.
perhaps i’m the one to be feared in the relationship because nothing will ever bring me a greater joy than seeing the unshed tears in his eyes. something about his watery green eyes and trembling pout warms my soul because i’m the only one that can make it okay again.
call out into the night: lover, come over here and let me fix you up so one day i can break you down again.
sometimes i want something broken, something to fix just to prove i can do the right thing. i want to fix things so i know how to take them apart later.
why? because that’s the way of the world, but i’ll postpone it for long as a i can. i quite like patching you up because i like fixing things; because… you’re you (and i can fix you however i please).
rest your head in my lap, i’ll place one hand on your chest and the other in your hair. the head and the heart; the signs of life that shout you’re still with me. my shaky hands and starving body will take care of you, don’t worry. i’ll bring your bruised and bloodied knuckles to my lips; my words a prayer to keep that anger in you alive. i’d swallow lit matches if it meant i’d be able to take away your pain (finally i’d be warm). though if i feast on your violent rage, then you must feast on mine (it fills your body with wonder, don’t shy away from it).
who said love had to be pretty? love is a heavy burden of grief and guilt that i’ll never refuse to carry.
i enjoy every moment i have with him, no matter how terrible. if being a spectator to suffering keeps my lover with me, then i’ll be the world’s new god (or at least his; i’d grant him every holy thing in this life and all that come to follow). in return, i want him anxiously waiting in the pews. fingers tapping away at his thighs, desperately longing for me to walk down that aisle preaching about how much love my soul holds for him. (after all, shouldn’t god worship his lovers as well?) he buzzes with anticipation, craving to pour all his love for me out onto the church floor. where else should holiness live if not here?
my devil, my holy thing. my boy fell down like a star in the sky with an insatiable anger and a growl in his throat. he could’ve gone anywhere, could’ve become anyone, but the first thing he did was hug me. he touched me before he stared into my eyes, i believe that’s the first time i had ever been to heaven. i washed the blood off of him and cleaned his wounds before i ever learned his name. the drips from the bathroom sink did all the talking we needed.
when our words aren’t enough, we turn on every faucet in our home. the rushing of the water reminds us that this love is something to drown in. most times the rain shows up just in time for us to not flood our home, so my lover and i run outside to soak ourselves in heaven’s tears; somewhere out in the desert, there’s a smirking god. we stay outside well after the rain has stopped and the stars replicate freckles across the night sky. i like to believe that there’s half of a north star in each of our souls; it brings us together, but it’s also why our anger shines so bright (he’ll be standing in my shadow when my fire goes out).