do you see?
the admiration beaming from my eyes when i gaze at you?
as if even minutes apart made me thirst for you
& just seeing you in all your handsome charm quenches it.
can you feel?
me trying to pluck the stress from your temples
your neck, your shoulders
as you tell me about your eventful day?
my earnest attempt to transfer all the bad you’re feeling
& take it upon myself.
can you hear?
the sweet sound of honest to goodness happiness?
in my laugh, in the way i coo, “you’re my favorite”
for the hundredth time today.
in the sincerity in my apologies for your long hours,
back to back meetings, & difficult days.
[i’ve never apologized so much before
& rarely ever for things that have
nothing to do with me]
is this what it is to love?
it feels like
such an incredible responsibility
to feel something this insurmountable
for someone else
& having now felt it,
to know that to live any other way
would be a half-life.
i want to run through every red light to get to you faster
the butterflies caged in my chest break free
when i recognize your silhouette across the dark parking lot
i want to live with my face buried in the space between your collar bones
your smile sets my gut at ease
like the ease you have with kissing the top of my forehead
with a warm, “hey babe”
& i never knew how much i craved
the velvety softness of those two words
until you say it
like how you casually play off the incredibly thoughtful things you do for me,
like loading the Harry Potter audiobooks to a playlist for me,
or leaving me “thinking of you” videos in the morning.
i want to extend each moment,
because time apart feels like that game i used to play with my brothers,
holding my breath at the entrance of a tunnel
only allowing myself to exhale once you reach the other side–
only, it’s not a game now.
& i’ve only just caught my breath with you
& don’t want to hold it a second more.
& yet.. i want to let you leave.
i want you to go conquer the world,
and be the person you tell all about it
at the end of the day.
if you didn’t ask me, “how was your circle group meeting?”
i’m quite sure
that all of this
would’ve come tumbling out
a seed can’t sprout in infertile ground
regardless of how strong it is.
in order for it to take root
and birth wispy tendrils
the soil had to give.
a whisper of a thought
comes from the smallest seed
but your mind is what allowed it to take hold
to grasp the possibility of that tiny idea
breaking out of its husk
& growing into this lush
ive been gazing at you
for a year now
& pray to God i never stop.
in the first flush,
i tend to burn brightly
with a ravenous hunger for the new
& just as quickly,
into a subdued
the kind of hushed light
that becomes so small,
that one would barely even notice.
like a steady
a comfort for its presence
but void of any real warmth.
& i can never remember,
at what point i let my flame
become a $1.97 glass Made in China bulb.