Somebody to Love

I was startled to see the raw passion behind the lense of his glasses, the tears streaming down his cheeks...and as I skimmed my fingers over his skin, over the crevice of his mouth and the battle scars on his neck, it was like holding the 17-year old boy in my arms once more, with his unbridled passion and his silent strength. “I love you,” he had whispered, and I had believed him. “I love you,” he whispered, once again, just as he had all those years ago. And as I looked into his eyes, at his pain and his longing and his hope, that wilting, flame of hope, I believed him. one-shot.