Sunflower

You tasted the bitterness of my words and the salt in my tears with your heart;
and I never asked you
to be the cup-bearer of my own incidental disasters
but you did it anyway.

You saw the little shards 
of my lungs and ribs and dreams that had lost their way somewhere along the journey;
and you didn’t point out their sharp edges, or fatuously wonder of my struggle to hide them away;
but you admired the way they reflected my thoughts
and the beautifully carved voids they had left behind.

You touched my timid soul the way the universe would caress its stars, while your fingertips whispered of how the warden of galaxies, or the ever-glowing spheres of light don't need sound in the vast oblivion that is space;