I love you for every constellation

So relish in my lips though dazed and putrid, compelled, insatiable and words don't dare describe enough. Do you like how they feel against the aroma of your Saturn.

Do you like it when I compartmentalise myself to a ball, or feet made to catch up to you.

Do you lament when I lack the steel balls to decompress my chest against those walls or plunging neurosis.

Do you love me?

Because for every dawn that has risen since the creation I love you tenfold.

For every dawn that shall rise hereafter.

For every forgotten tale, every lover lost to time I know that if my ashes are swept into the sea I shall find my way to you.

I shall coil beneath your surface and grow putrid and sour within your walls. But I shall grow nonetheless. I shall love nonetheless.

I may not tell of our love but I shall rest in the the sand beneath your slippers. Dance nude within your embers.

Because I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

-

The days went quite fast, most acting in the same haste and dissonance. We snook an embrace, and those fears, between each bitter coat of sin grappled between the popes bloody Mary.

He smiled at me one lunch, heat taking away each thought I could muster. I smiled back looking down into my pasta pot, lusting to taste more than canned bolognese.

We (more so I) were insufferably insatiable, grasping at straws and soda cans. Yearning for what we didn't have, what we couldn't have.

I wanted him more than that, i needed him more than that.

The world should've known he was mine and I his.

"James," I tugged at his wrist.

"Hm"

I opened my mouth then closed it, anxiety creeping over my shoulder, "Do you wanna come over to mine on Sunday. We'll be alone for a bit if I can get out of helping with groceries."

He laughed a bit, almost drawing me out a self-induced pit of paranoia.

"Of course"

It was like he didn't notice that the second I saw someone walk past I let go of him, that or he chose not to question it anymore.

"Well, I'll see you then," he smiled. Opening his arms wide.

My eyebrows knitted then I flinched slightly. As memories rolled like boulders down my scalp, fear dancing amongst my delusion. I looked at his eye pitifully. Then I went in.

It lasted a moment.

He didn't bother pulling me in, or even really touching me. Nor did I. He looked at me a moment, blankness yet hinting at something I didn't want to know.

"Bye Matthew."

"Bye"

I stood there, knowing I had done everything wrong but I couldn't shake off that fear. That question.

What if someone else were to have found us.

My mother, his, my father, brother.

What would their disgust taste like, could I bare it. Would they send us to conversion therapy or locked us in cells. What if they disowned us. Or sent me away from him.

I couldn't bare the thought.

So I rather our relationship exist on edge of collapse than no longer being. Than my yearning taking me out like sniper.

Sunday rolled around, I got dressed as usual in the same attire as every week. Pulling back my overgrown hair into a plain headband. My mom drove us that morning, I remember it distinctly. She had a clip in her hair as she so often did, those same blue jeans and a long-sleeve striped top.

My father a dark polo.

My brother, similar attire to myself. Black jeans and trainers, a white shirt.

We got there early so that my brother had chance to get ready to do the words, my parents of singing. Per usual.

Then he came in, smiling as usual.

"Why are you so early"

"Strict parents and I'm on welcome."

I smiled at him, " is your sister going to help or should I."

"She can always help another time," he turned "Amelia, Matthew's helping me with welcoming so you go do something else."

She scowled at him, then walked away.

"She acts like she even wanted to help me."

I smiled earning me a playful shove, "So, what are we to do at your house later."

He began lifting his eyebrows rapidly, before turning his head back and forth. Scanning our surroundings before pulling my fingers into his and my arm between his.

I blushed a bit, causing howls to escape him. Those sounds so manly, making me realise again who he was, what he was. How he had grown recently so I couldn't make fun of his height so much.

He pushed me playfully, so I did back.

Until we, hand in hand, began pushing each other back and forth. Trying to show who was the stronger of us, I (obviously) was winning. He struggled yet never gave up until he heard the opening of the doors. Making him let me go suddenly and me stumbling.

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Hamilton," he spoke with a sickening innocence.

After shaking the old mans hand, his wife came wandering into a tight hug. Before squeezing his cheeks, "You've grown so much, I remember when you used to sit on your mother's lap and hide behind her legs. Now look at you," she began holding his checks softer, " already becoming a man."

He smiled the same smile he did at all those comment.

She then said near enough the same thing to me. Except it was slightly more personal, then they walked hand in hand through the doors into the main hall.

I gripped his cheeks firm," look at you, already a man."

He rolled his eyes, before filling my hands in his. They were as soft as always yet a bit bigger.

He really was becoming a man.

"Shut up, dumbass."

I gasped, "no cussing in church else I'll tell the pastor."

He rolled his eyes, then looked over his shoulder and mine. A hand landed at the bottom op my cheek another in my hair, before he kissed me chaste and sweetly.

Noses not far from touching, he smiled at me. I smiled back. He dropped his head onto my chest, causing me to snicker.

It was moments like those were he could've been anything under the sun and yet it wouldn't have made much a difference. I saw past his bigger hands and sometimes stubble, his leg hairs he sometimes shaved under the influence of Faye. I saw past his manhood and masculinity, into he was. James Letesha.

That's all that mattered.

Faye sat in the row in front of us, her hair in bra length faux locks like she did so often. Because it's the closest to the real thing she was allowed.

She turned in her seat just before singing started, "You guys look happy, that's good," before turning back around. I could feel his smile growing. And I tasted cinnamon under my tongue from his kiss. I felt bliss, for moment.

They sang a song or 8 I didn't pay my much mind to their repetition. Just new chord progressions and strings same message over and over.

The pastor got up in the same button up I'd seen him wear for the majority of my life. He fixed his headset.

"Good morning everyone how's your week been so far."

Shouts of great and amazing, alongside chuckles. Then he made a joking comment about football or sport or something of the sort causing laughs to arise.

"So as many of you know there has been news of conversations going on in the Methodist church of accepting LGBT and their agenda. And I just wanted to pray for those who are still strongly against it. That God will help them in keeping true to what we know is the will of God. The word that is written. And that they don't fall under the scrutiny of the world.

We live in the world but we are not of the world. Amen."

AMEN! They all sang like birds, or death or condemnation. They sang like they were the damned going to battle, with none but their wit and hope. They sang cries of war.

Prayer started as they bowed heads, each one of them eyes closed, hands tied.

I felt numb almost, like I was bound to church pillar as stones cascaded. Like I was the damned with less than wit.

I tasted metal under my tongue.

I bit it too hard.

He took me in his hand, gripping it softly. But I couldn't look to him, all I could do was let go. I somehow felt betrayed by them as though I never knew of their ideals, I just made myself forget for temporary sanity.

Nothing hurt more than the sickening nonchalance the pastor took in his lips. He didn't so much as hesitate. I detested it.

After church ended we began walking. He looked down to the ground a moment or two.

"Matthew, you know they're wrong, right?"

"Yes"

"Then act like it, I know it hurt but it can't be changed. All we can do is control how we act and react."

"It's not right,' my breath hitched "all we ever did was love."

He hesitated a moment like I grasped his lung.

"I know," he took my hand in his " and that is what we will continue to do. Even in silence and even when they disprove of us.

The only ideal I care for is yours."

I smiled at that, "thank you"

"For what?"

"For continuing to love, even when it was hard."

He pulled me into him, as I held back a tear threatening my borders. It was stronger than I was, and his hair smelled sweeter than it usually did. His body felt more bloodcurdling, almost deadly stiff and cold.

We got to my house, and took our shoes off at the door. I had arranged my bed nicely for once so that he would like it, even spraying Febreeze for him.

"Matthew you idiot, there was no need to pretty up your room for me. I know what it looks like messy."

"But I wanted it to look special for you," I made those puppy dog eyes.

He pulled my head like he was going to kiss me before putting me in a headlock, taking off my headband and messing my hair up more than it already was.

I pushed and shoved until we fell side to side atop the bed of fresh covers and candle wax, him letting go of me. After we calmed down I pinned him under me, smiling down.

"You let push you away, why"

His eyes whispered endearments in the light that bounced off them, illuminating his rosy lips.

"You truly are a fool, this why it makes it all the more harder for me to say this."

"Say what"

"Matthew, Pooh, Oliver or whatever the fuck else you want me to call you.

I love you.'

He brought me ever close until his forehead rest on mine, until I could scribe his eyelashes and translate the hairs on his forehead to Latin. Until I almost melted into his flesh."

"matthew,' he paused momentarily "I mean it."

I was left flabbergasted tasting dried silver under my tongue and cinnamon and newfound passion.

"I love you too."

Smiling because in that moment none else mattered, nothing else was more true to me. Not even the atoms I was or those pulling us closer.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you..."

i could've gone on until my mouth lay dry and baron tongue almost falling out. It wouldn't satisfy until he knew and understood. Until i could truly admit it to the world.

"I love the way you say that," he smiled teary eyed.

"And I love you, will you be my official boyfriend. Piglet."

"Piglet?"

"I'm your Winnie, you piglet. Or are you my Patroclus?"

"Do you dare suggest I'm to die for your benefit."

"I suggest that you are to die a death in my honour so that I mourn you for eternity and I murder as repayment for your death. I go to the underworld if it means that you lay within my view."

"Look at you, poet."

I smiled, truly smiled. I basked in smiled lines and all the wrinkles that may dare appear one day because of overuse but I didn't dare vex. I rather a wrinkled mess than not his.

"Yes"

My eyebrows arched, "Yes what"

"It's as though you have already forgotten, I James Letesha want to be blessed with the honour of being the official boyfriend of Matthew Roberts. If that would be satisfactory for you."

I sloppily smooched his cheek then his eyebrows then eyelid then chin. Almost gnawing at those areas.

"Was that an answer, Winnie. Last I checked Achilles himself dotted Patroclus in as many kisses as there are stars. And for each constellation he gave him ten."

He began beaming almost lob-sided, as I began mapping a constellation on his forehead then trickling down his face like rain after thunder. I mapped his emerald as I inhaled his Aphrodisiac.

"Didn't I say kiss me, Achilles," he rolled his eyes slightly.

"Not exactly"

"Then kiss me"