The oceans I would cross for you would cleave in two to surrender my passage The mountains would lift the train of their skirts to become tunnels And I would hold my breath running through them and knit every wish into dandelion fluff for you Birds would shed their feathers Tumbleweeds would thunder like chariots The woods would become wings And I would fight god and men and myself to reach you Bruises like badges in full decorum I would rip the canopy of night from the sky so all that remains is the glory and light of a billion naked stars, If you wanted. If you wanted, I’d be a sword I would cut down armies and overgrowth to make your path I could be a shield, and no bullet of hail or roaring vendetta would ever touch you I can be your fanfare, your runaway train, your tropical storm that levels skyscrapers. Your alchemist, your confidant, the one who tastes your food and sips your wine to test for poison, your compass, your bodyguard, your sinkless ship. But do not ask me to be your lover. I don’t know how to be soft.
Achilles /.w.m.w.
