.

a boy with a penchant for words

for guitar strings, for fish, for sight of the world

his mind reached down to the depths of the seas and up again, grasping for the stars

a delicate film of the understanding of beauty enveloped the surface of his spirit

floating

it changed how he saw the day-to-day,

while a careful curiosity brimmed with hows, and whens, and whys

we sat by the beach,  next to the whispers of the waves 

he reminded me of the truth of life, love

his hands, an encyclopaedia of thoughts

his hands, that spoke a million words and that sung a million chords

the lines on his palm like a map of the tube i kept in the back of my pocket

each line and stop memorized as i traced the contours of his skin while sleep robbed me of him

a gentle laugh like the first bloom in the spring

a single rose

eyes that reminded me of every city i've travelled

of streets and roads, an unending journey of seeking

his touch came in waves of electricity

desire running through his veins, and then to mine, and then

back to his

the current flowing through his lips

kissed my bruises

the colour of currants 

away