Walls

For day 12 of the PAD challenge. Prompt A "forget what they say" poem.

lay your head on my shoulder, forget
what they say (meaning and masking matters
not one whit as the sun rises, sets, the
shifting face of the moon will smile down
on us, seeing, as she does, similar spirits, pale
dead rocks that, nonetheless, burn bright, are
changeable, blotted by dark patches, like
moss on the wall, built up, stone by stone,
to make a whole from parts once scattered
far and wide)

no need for the words of others, mine,
as we build our walls water-tight, thick-
mortared, to keep out such as would harm us