Twisted Mind

The experience of you.

Those eyes of yours,

that see.

Beyond words,

between worlds,

like mine.

Sometimes,

I think of your

twisted mind.

The way

it twists, into

my own.

Like rainbows

of neural pathways,

Or, green vines

of thorns and deep red

roses.

Your vulnerability

feels safe here.

Weep

into me.

I can take it.

I am soft,

not fragile.

Not anymore.

Today,

I thought of

your beating heart and

I cried

In gratitude.

I cried at the humanness,

of you.

The composition of you.

I cried because

when I close my eyes

you’re right there,

a reflection,

a shadow.

Of my own soul,

or maybe just

my mind.

Maybe it’s all

me,

and my

twisted mind.