Every Layer.

Somedays, 

I wonder

if inbetween 

the curtains of your eye 

and my ceaseless attempts to make you laugh,

do you fear the decay of words? 

Or the windchimes growing still?

Do you fear the moon might not return

or the growth of weakeness in my hands?

Or do you dwell with higher things?

Do you relish the petricore

and gifts given to your skin?

Can you see the beauty in every layer?

Could you teach me to see it too?

For I am nearly torn in two

never more alive

never more afraid 

ever more alive

ever more brave. 

I am floating, 

I am complete. 

Wrapped in every layer,

ever more awake.