The Safety of Flesh

I feel sorry for you

wrapped tight

in his arms

fighting to find your way out.

You, who know sorrow

better than the rest of us.

You, who drink tears

without end.

You will never know

what they know.

Feel what they feel.

Arms wrapped tight around you

for love

and only for love.

The safety of flesh.

Voices whispered in your ear

of train rides

and balloons.

A hand to hold

in the night

when the nightmares come

and the trees bang against the windows

begging to come in.

A hand bigger than yours

to wipe away your tears

and leave you

laughing.