Determination and power dance on his lips,

fervently moving his hands

unlike fists, an open palm.

An inviting shine in his eyes,

a patchwork of philosophy and history dotted along tan lines.

Yet, tremors wake at the corners of his lips.

Truth settling at the tip of his tongue.

When you kiss him,

can you taste the bitterness of a past life?

When you listen to him,

can you hear the screams and cries engraving in the reverberations of his voice?

When you touch him,

can you feel the tightening of his grip when he holds your fingertips?

When you look at him,

can you see the silhouette of darkness caressing his eyes?

A mirage of a lost boy fighting the demons inside…