Boiler plate on my breast
With a crest of crossed fingers
I consult my arsenal, the ideal,
Like a falcon hooded on my wrist.
I campaign for the honest truth,
Love from lust to brotherhood.
Come, run with me. Noble,
Wild as mountains or wind.
We flow together, one in blood.
Years have turned and gone, heart,
Since I touched your shiny lips,
Your laugh warm against my neck.
I will not let your death be quiet.
Though my broken voice ages
What we share will fill pages.