But somehow your words
Reached through a blood-stained past
Into the barren confines
Of my moth-eaten soul

And, caressing its blistered insides,
Pulled out a silver thread
From the infestation I call
A heart; amidst dusty skeletons

And long-congealed blood, you found
A candle still flickering,
A light my derelict spirit
Had unconsciously sheltered

You found
[Love.]
From the thick fibers of obsession
Emerged a tear-stained beauty

Because you
[Understood]
The delicate way words balance
On droplets of salty water

Smiled at me with a hue of sky
I have yet to see
Again, swept aside my
[Broken]

Brush strokes, so that I slept on
The curve of a
Salt-
Washed

Moon.
Wrapped in the warmth
Of nebulae, I look yet
To the Cosmos, seeking

The tender violence
With which you tore into
My decrepit
Flesh,
Permeated every fickle convolution
Of my girlish
Mind,
And infused into my feeble veins

The true
[Strength]
Of
[Weakness.]