let me breathe into you the words of my past.
you're so warm, yet alone.
do you fear death?
me?
anyone?
i have held this lock in my palm from the stars,
just for you, 
won't you take it from my crying hand?
this tiny star,
this light,
burns a stigmata atop innocent flesh.
gone are the lines and the creases of my future;
i burned them away for you.