Spokes

You have changed my life.

Pitter patter says the rain on the roof. I close my eyes and fall into the darkness as if into your arms, so many, many miles.

Above me, the spokes of the stars pierce the darkness and the night rolls gently on. I am cuddled in my quilt, but quite alone.

I do not want this, or that, man's love, like that.
I do not care to be watched as if a firefly in a mason jar.

I burn, but I must be free.

If you want to love me, than hold me with your human arms and shoulders and heart. Hold me in the deep places, hold me in the dark.

For a man, who knows not his own love, -in the words your hands have written and the lines your fingers have traced, I am un bound in my heart, left to fill my lungs with the spring of joy or the rain of sorrow and in this freedom I bloom in love.

If you want to love me, than hold me with your human arms and shoulders and heart.
Hold me in the deep places, hold me in the dark.