Question: Poetry prompt: David and Jonathan
he presses one palm to the center of your chest
saying, here is the wound where the light
bleeds in. he never tries to pin you beneath him
as if you were a starling meant for dust,
only holds you at night when you need
him to, lets you be the wild river of yourself.
you cup his face in your hands. you the lyre-
mouthed peasant king, he the echo of a prince,
dyed red by unthinking hands. he’s seen you
with giant’s blood under your nails, with myrrh
dripping in the curls of your hair, with the lord
rain-storming behind your human eyes,
& he is not afraid of the death-sharp
point of the lance his father hurls at his heart,
nor missions where he wades alone upstream,
dagger in hand. not afraid of you or this.
once, you massaged olive oil into his adolescent
scrapes; now, by the firelight, as cherubim
watch through the reeds, he kisses
your wrists, sits up to look at you with damp,
shining lips. kadosh, kadosh, kadosh.
how this convening tastes of blessings,
nectar-sweet. how this love floods & floods,