Freedom

tried by fire
so little was burnt away
and i like the way that
you are a singed around the
edges

your hands still feel
like they are in the furnace
burning fears off of
all of my surfaces
resurfacing old hopes

four years old
and I was telling
you secrets under my bed
forever friend the kind
that doesn't have to know
to know

never had it in me to
say what I wanted
what right did I have?
what right do I have?

but one of those fountains
broke apart at my groaning
and washed me away
without asking that question

and both of my hands were
annointed twice over
with alabaster oil
that cost more than I'm worth

by the three that is one
who pours without measure
and dreams outside of my means
and makes pure with his fetters

never had it in me
to know what I wanted
but he dreams without measure
and I like the ways you are
singed around the edges

forever friend
you saw the fountain break open
when you burnt off my outsides
and I knew what I wanted