For a time, I fancied life to be like the
fantasy novels nestled in my nightstand,
cascade of poems swirling in my psyche,
modern movie scripts steeped in my esse.

For you, I would have
feuded with fae, studied spells, abandoned abilities,
charmed Death, redrafted the past,
impeded airports.

For now, I will
give all my small graces,
bear your bared, intimate burdens,
embrace our fragmenting minutiae.

For you, I
stay the voices to stay by your side,
lay your hand in mine while I’d rather lie asleep,
pray pardons for wrongs when I am overwrought;
relax ramblings even if the wind’s tease feels an insult,
lend my sanity the second yours is not sanative;
twist, entwine our stories into something found only in fairy tales.