All I want to be

is your confidant

the receptacle

of your drifting thoughts

snatched from the air

in moments of weakness

your words are shaped

from star dust

that loops together

in endless spirals

around your lips

and tickles my ear

upon entry

I’m not asking for love

but for trust

let me cradle

your delicate musings

that you find arbitrary

and I find fascinating

you believe yourself

to be impenetrable

but I’ve heard

the 3:00 AM thoughts

and read your B+ poetry

talk to me

talk me to the ends of time

when you are half asleep

and I am merely half full

of your words

they are my oxygen

and my lungs are limp

so fill them with you

the parts of you

I stumble upon

accidentally and willingly.

To hear you

Is to know you.