He feels like he could eat the world raw.
I feel like our happy ending
is another broken promise.
like the sun will set
when he does, when the roar
of his name across battlefields
is not enough; it never was
I feel like his hair will never
look the way it does now.
like these moments are memories
already, when he leaves for Troy
he takes a part of me with him
I feel like no one says my name
the way Achilles does.
like it is a gift, a soft murmur
of each syllable; Patroclus
his hand in mine is a blessing
and I’m scared to let go.