there was an unspoken softness about him,
he was distinctly his own person, born a hundred years before his time,
that's why they didn't understand.
he strung together all of life's unnoticed occurrances, wound them around his wrist
and carried them for comfort in his pocket for a while.
almost forgotten,
but in a cloudstorm, he pulled them out, sorted through the clutter
and made clarity from the confusion.
he believed in things that were considered blasphemy;
spoke aloud what others denied
and dared to dream, had room for disappointment in exchange for the chance of hope
he whispered to me.
rainbows, oppurtunity, escape
and i opened my heart, closed my eyes,
took his hand....
and jumped
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