the way i look at a piece of paper
knowing there are words to describe
you
knowing there is not enough i could say to do
you justice
but taking comfort in the way i feel as if i have known
you forever.
the sweater i left in my fathers closet.
the soft blue knit i knew
and had only now worn it
and taken off the spare pieces of thread
and had understood the purpose of the use of it.
the piece of sun that had met me before today and
yet it introduces itself to me every morning
and now i had understood the beauty in seeing the world in golden streaks on rooftops in the snow.
knowing you has been dawn.
understanding you has been spun
i wish to fervently describe the way i feel as if you have spun me a web to protect me in my dreams,
my nightmares, where i know they end just as i expect them to
in my hand.
you trace every line and stitch of work evident in my skin that you now know my hands like your own.
and i would wish that you would trace my life as i do yours, over in my mind turning it to knots that i know i can undo.
and i wish there was more time in the morning when the sun kisses me on my cheek and knows me like you do