BOY FROM MARS

the night has been lonely for you.

your voice comes in whispers,
but your eyes…
they scream at me.
you want to come home, don’t you?

i am your wish-granter,
to you alone…
but i am a dreamer, too.
the moon knows your name, didn’t you know?

when i close my eyes,
we meet on your red planet.

your hair has been stained red and black,
your skin tanned and beaten by a far star,
and your hands —
clenched.

you’re angry.

you’re longing.

“i miss you,” you say.
i reply, “i know.”

you tell me, “come back.”
my eyes drop. “there’s nothing to come back to.”

once upon a time,
your dusty home used to be filled,
lush, and protected,
loved by the star.

but time has its enemies.
your home was so.

i want you to stay with me,
but you stay alone.
in stubbornness, perhaps.
in hope.

i understand.
the moon will watch over you from afar,
she will let me know where you are.

“but i still miss you.”