I think he's there but
I can't be sure.
Can anyone be sure

Of themselves,
Or can they
Just lie convincingly

Next to one another,
Two boys lay on their chests
Fingers blooming out towards

The Others. No contact
Their heads averted
They lie, as mirrored angels

Unshifting, so they don't spill blood
From their backs
On the snow

It's easier to be near someone
If you don't have to look.
You don't have to feel

Blue snow on your wound
Or red hands in yours
Or the relief that feels red-black

Like the color of your eyelids.
closing my eyes
And looking makes me feel

The closest I can to seeing inside
My mind, and it's all bouncing dots
And swirling pink-blue-red-black-white.

I want to be a flower
Because they don't have eyes
To close. I want to be a flower

Because they need only be open
To the sky, and the sky loves them.
The sky rains when they are closed and

When they are blooming, the sky
Shines light through their petals
And says,

I love the way you glow.