Between deep breaths

I placed a moment out of reach,
too young to explain the details
embroidered on its
white cotton sleeve.
Those converted camcorder tapes,
noisily focusing on
put it down, ordeals
and the gravity of real.  
 
I could only watch
as you carried him
behind closed eyes,
curved reflections pushing
waves, washing up blood
on sea-glass shores.
 
Then a marble blue scream
scatters me across the surface,
frightened fish returning
to the deepest parts of the pool.
We lay there wrapped, casting quiet
as the battle tent raged above us.
 
Gripped by translucent fingernails
so small, so imperfectly real.
Inhaled your sweet and perfect pale
that deepened scent of skin revealed.
My breath spread incantations
that promised you our touch.
 
The kiss I forged on your forehead
would only let in dreams, tell stories
of the worlds we’d weave and all
the songs they’ll come to sing.