your breath doesn't come steady
soft, like the slow ebb of the sea
it's not gentile
sliding up and down in an unplanned beat.
your chest pushes
your stomach lurches
your breath is calculated and produced.
In your eyes, I see you standing proud,
I hear your heart pleading for freedom,
grateful for the crowds of love pushed upon you,
desperate for peace without words.
In a world where communication is both necessary and impossible,
I can only hope you hear the smile in my eyes
and take its strength.