She paints the stars on his bedroom walls
and bends the shapes into perfect symmetry
she kisses his eyelids and cups his face
and she still holds his hand and closes her eyes
when he kisses her and she knows
without a doubt that she loves him

He paints the clouds on her canvas
and makes straight lines out of coat hangers
he kisses her forehead and caresses her throat
and he still holds her hand and moves strands of hair
from her face and he tells her he’s clouded
and not like the stars, but she knows what he means

She pushes for liberation
fills his head with lies and false accusations
whispers in his ears that there’s no way this is right
that there’s no balance of control and there’s no balance
at all and there’s no love in this and for a moment
he’s swayed and blanketed, confused
but he remembers…

She paints the stars on his bedroom walls
and kisses him softly, holds him in the night
and whispers gently in his ear that everything will be okay
and they’ll make it because they always do
and he believes her because he knows she’d never lie.