It is easy to crumble a man’s heart like the city of Athens, or an old Mayan tomb.
But you - my sweet, my frail - wear all your maladies as armour,
and protect yourself from greater maladies.
How easy we make it to love those that we do not know.
Love, as if for the first time,
you are hearing that perfect song, many weeks before you’ve memorized every beat and every freckle.
The hook that hits the pit of your stomach just right. The first time the needle scratches.
Sit in silence, and maybe you can pretend we that are so much nearer.
I’m at the bottom of every cup of coffee, I swear.