When He Is Him

My chest deflates.

My mind scrambles for reason,

For a pattern to follow.

My heart nearly breaks

Into boundless freedom

And I struggle to swallow.

Because when “he” is him,

It’s a holy secret.

It’s a shout that became a whisper.

There is a doubled glance

In the most literal sense.

When “he” first meant him,

Forever the end of time

The beginning of his.

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