Throwing Rocks

In an expanse of nonchalance you appear

as a back-lit pinprick of positivity,

a set of hands and lips with which trading words

appears incredibly simple. 

You shared with me the smudges behind your gold-green eyes,

telling me how the world has been throwing rocks at you;

I wouldn't mind stepping in the way,

taking a hit or two. 

Things hurt a lot less when my attention is elsewhere,

on something else,

maybe on you.