And he knew that he was loved
When this one didn't try to make him adore this one more than anything, more than his own breath and the earth beneath his feet
But instead
Took his hand and asked him about the rainforest of his mind
Put this one's lips on his shoulder and begged to learn about the night sky of his blood
Whispered a plea and wished to dead gods for him to see the twitch of his own muscles that could bear a roar of war-storms underneath
Instead of asking to be loved
This one leaned against him and spoke: I want to know how you love yourself
And when he could only answer that he had forgotten
This one watched, silent, just to say: May I stay and see how you remember yourself?
He thought about it, quiet, in the dark, and said: Yes. And then we can love me together, and you too, just as much.
Moami