if i could shield you with my body,
i would.

you are made of starlight,
you are made of sea glass
and wind chimes
and other holy objects
that sparkle when held up to the light.

ah, but i am sharp,
i am razor blades and windshield glass,
i find no comfort in the sun.
i have walked a thousand miles
and have yet to wear skin that does not fit badly.
here are my hands, darling, 
here are my marksman hands:

read the years that i have wept for you
in the lines of my palms,
feel the delicate skin at my wrists.
too many times
have i felt myself grow weak before you.

and still –

if i could die for you,
if i could shield you with my body,
i would.