I hate the way you always seem
So cheerful in the morning cold,
While I, a mortal born of flesh,
Can’t help but freeze bitterly.
Yet seeing you, I smile as well,
And echo your shining face.
I love the way warmth
Flows through your hand,
Like cocoa melting marshmallows,
Thawing mine with just one grasp;
How when grey lords loom high above,
You speak to me, a wind chime melody,
That carries those clouds elsewhere.
Once before none dared approach,
People ignored my ashen husk,
Walking down emptying streets.
Before meeting you, I will admit,
I was broken, with patches all over.
Hair in jagged clumps, wrinkles
Growing over bags of skin; I stood
Slouched, unable to lift my head.
Your eyes saw the torn seams,
For a quilt, radiant beneath the dust.
You cringed at first, picked me up,
And cleansed the dirt piling
On my shoulders. Hold me close,
I flicker into past pictures no more,
As long as we can stay.