This

He breathes in deep and slow and
smiles wide
and lets the air slide out through
his teeth
whistling and old as it leaves
his lungs

His eyes are older than time
and his
skin is like a map of all the things
he’s done
and the places he has been
and the
women he has known and loved and
the ones
who taught him what he is about to
teach me

In the cracks and crevices around
those eyes
there’s a deep knowledge of all
the things
I wish I knew. And he says he will
share it
here and now, in this cold and new
and hard
and ugly place. What is happiness?
he asks

What is joy?
What is love?
What is pure, white
bright, unfiltered
bliss?

It’s this, he says, and waves his hand
in a
big, broad, comprehensive motion
it’s a
blue empty sky with the smell of
the sea
in it. It’s the coldest cold you’ve
ever been

when you think you might just
die there
and someone who knows your skin
pulls you
into their body and suddenly it’s
so warm
and you can feel the blood beating
in your
shared heart. It’s the end of the race
when you’ve

run so hard and far that you thought
you’d fall
and never find the way back home
It’s the
hard earth under your feet when
you thought
you were drowning. It’s the
wide blue
yonder. It’s the day you let go
of all

the hands and claws and chains
that stopped
you. It’s the first breath you take
without fear
It’s the one little grain of perfect
truth in
amongst all the dark and dirty lies

It’s hot sunshine and cool water.
It’s the
long, long, long days that seem
to last
forever. It’s throwing your arms
out wide
and screaming, I love you, I love you, I
love you

It’s everything
all at once
It’s life, life, life
It’s handstands
It’s having your
heart broken

and finding someone to pick the
pieces up
It’s you, here, now, with me
Alive
It’s words and music and big, mad
scary thrills
it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and
never knew

It's friends and flowers and letters
and hands
and feet and toes and tongue
and eyes
It's all the things you've ever felt
It’s this