I Believe in Your Eyes

I Believe in Your Eyes

(“But it was very good of you to help me in my troubles.” Philippians 4:14)

I don’t believe in pedestals,
I don’t believe in princess crowns.
But I believe in beauty,
I believe in the way your name sounds
every time my heart hears it.
I believe in your smile that melts glaciers.
I believe in your eyes unafraid to see all of me,
I look for your lips to form the words you hold
close as a treasure.

Hearing the embrace transfixes
wandering moods.
Warming fingers touch another’s arm and,
we dare once more to trust,
to breathe,
to hear the heartbeat the same as another.

What if faces meet, cheek to cheek,
lingering a moment longer than expected?
Touch heals the
untouched
places where only scars once were found.

Would someone touch my face this once?
Would someone hold it in their hands?
And then, as the moon rises upon our shadows,
may there be the whispered hint of
midnight breeze, someone’s hands upon my own.

There are words I fear to say.
And I fear, there are words still locked within.
But if I do not speak them, they grow tired and adolescent.

Let my words, the mature words of friendship and love,
swirl between us, never-ending, in the universe we
inhabit, in the spaces between us, in the moments
heart knows heart.

Some I trust with my words, fewer with my hurts;
I’ve been too careless with my secrets, too vocal about my pain.
Be my safe place, hear my confessions, and,
like the air that carries words between us
I will carry yours in trust, in confidence,
in love that honors stories without villains
or heroes.
We both can name
the pain and let it sit in the atmosphere
between us.