Here is my heart, and how to burn it down.

To love you 

Is to set aside my armor

To show you: come,

Here is the deepest room 

In the furthest reaches

Of my house.

Here is my heart

and how to burn it down.

I grant you the same permission 

I gave her:

Hurt me

if you will.

You will

all but destroy me.

Loving you -

loving her - 

is rapt stare at a fire

I did not start;

you are sacred cleansing art -

catch on the altar

and we will collaborate on this part:

flames only tend

one direction.

To know you

is an inflection 

of the tongue,

one I’ve never made before,

language I cannot yet articulate.

My mind is not young like yours:

you will speak this sooner than me.

But I will exhaust each breath

inside each lung,

before I live in a world where 

we do not share 

common ground or grammar.

You will watch me shed tears,

hide tears,

I will startle, stutter


but meaning

is more stubborn than my weakness.

We will both be translated

before long.

We will both be changed.

We will both be spoken strong.

We will both be rebels against God.

We will both be wrong.