You love him, 
you do,
and here’s the miracle:
he loves you too.
You are allowed
to lick off the colour from his lips
to listen to the hymns in his pulse
to bask in the sunlight of his voice

You are allowed 
to have him.

You love each other,
you do,
and here’s the tragedy:
it’s not enough.
You are allowed
to watch the sun swallow him whole and burn him up
to stain your fingers to the bone holding him together
to count the constellations in his eyes as they blink out

You are not allowed
to save him.