she has lashes that almost touch her eyebrows
i thought to myself
silently cursing my genes
that gave me barely there
wispy little things
& not wispy in a, “cute, exotic, untouchable” way
but in the, “they look like someone plucked beetle legs,
& sprinkled them onto my eyelids” kind of way.
hers are full, and healthy, and long, and make her eyes wide.
They look like they could swallow the world whole with her doe-eyed gaze
& the losing card in my deck of features
featured on my face.
are they natural? are they extensions? how does she do it?
i must emulate, & pray
that with all the serums,
primers, solutions, & tricks
that my lashes could at least strive to be 30%
of what hers are.
so i investigate
video after video
FINALLY! a makeup tutorial
im hopeful in discovering the secret to long lashes
that bridge her perfect little nose
that she wears proudly in ever photo
every “i woke up like this” moment
are drawn in
with a brand-less
they’re not just “barely there”
i thought to myself
silently comforted in my genes
that gave me true
sprinkled over my bridge-less asian nose
& speckled on the apples of my too-round cheeks
Roosevelt may be mostly right
when he said:
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
in some rare cases
it may also bring solace.
I love you
like a sea otter loves it’s favorite rock.
Fact: sea otters will search high and low
for a perfect rock
Smooth and ideal in shape
to rest on their belly
& smash clams and shellfish upon
they even have a pouch of skin
Where they keep their favorite rock
are my sea otter rock.
ive never been so sad to be away from you.
but ive never been so happy,
to realize how sad i am without you.
how deeply i adore you.
my reddening eyes betrayed me
with their sloppy wet lashes
before i could articulate
not in you.
let the record state that.
“i just dont want you to get so lost in this, that if it doesn’t work out… it will destroy you.”
“how cocky” i thought
but as my body reacted
before my mind could process
i realized that at the heart of it all,
my disappointment was in myself
because you were right.
& i didnt know how to convince you
that it wouldnt be so.
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.