Refuge

Refuge

You offer refuge
Cupped in the palm of your hand
Like water it is fleeting,
Absorbed into your skin before I can drink,
But condensation follows
On your eyelids, on your lips.
I drink freely and am revived.
You should conserve, I tell you,
One day there may be a draught.

[‘Then we’ll go thirsty together,’ you say]

Is that how you perceive romance?
Crawling to each other over burning sand
In attempt to die within fingers’ reach?
I do not intend to die for this love.
Dying is simple, I will live because it requires effort.

You offer laughter
Dangled from the hinges of your smile
Like sunlight it is recognized
Most keenly when the shadows cover my eyes.
But luminescence follows
From your eyes, from your voice.
I lift heavy lids; hold my hands to the warmth.
You should save the matches, I say,
One day there may be an eclipse.

[‘Then we’ll learn to see in the dark,’ you say]

Is that how you perceive trust?
Groping each others’ faces in attempts to
Remember how we used to look.
I do not intend to go blind for you.
Blindness is an excuse; I want to say
I saw it coming.

You offer silence
Wrapped around your shoulder blades
Like velvet it is thick,
Able to smother or warm in equal strength,
But security follows
In your fingers, in your hands-
I am cocooned, I share the blanket.
You should keep it to yourself, I tell you,
One day there may be a frost.

[‘Then we’ll stay close,’ you say to me, ‘and wait for the thaw.’]

Is that how you perceive hope?
Crystallizing together, bones coated with ice
From attempting to push heat into the other?
I do not intend to freeze solid.
Freezing is passive; I will remain fluid because
I refuse to stop moving.

In the end,
It is the insignificant things
That keep us alive.