While you turn your head precariously
towards the soft autumn seeping in
through the open window, and your
brown hair flutters in the cool breeze,
I watch your face: as your eyebrows draw
forward in thought, creating coal black
hawk wings arching across your forehead,
as you pucker your lips in contemplation,
as you exhale a slight sigh, trying to make
sense of it all.  

In that moment,
I hope you understand the extent to which
I am not next to you, but with you. Floating
along, entangled with the soft lavender of
your perfume drifting upon the breeze, dropping
seeds of brokenness and hope wherever it is
the wind may carry you.