Sure I've been in love before
But never like this
Your love is so kind
Like a salve to my burns
You take care of me
With your words and your actions
Yet it makes me feel so broken
How do I act
What do I say
It never feels enough
I'm trying to learn this new love
This right love
But how do I show you
That with all your actions
Your slowly healing me
How do I show you
That I love you so dearly

a doll in caring hands is hardened, wiser than the eyes might betray.
looks up, wide-eyed and sincere,
hoping that this day will be another filled
with laughter, love, and fun.

and in caring hands, the doll, outwardly
pristine yet bearing scars all their own,
sees opportunity. friendship, love, care,
hope.

each day is an adventure all its own,
thread-bare truths, communion, lust, a metaphor, after whom they were modeled.

the metaphor houses more than communion and lust-- misunderstanding, learning, fear are all fighting to be seen, heard, felt.
wanted. needed. heard.

in caring hands, they will be. they deserve
to be. smiling wholly on the inside, serene,
fulfilled, attended to.

caring hands impart the love they need
in the measure they require, sonorous,
generous, kind. full and deep. because they
were crafted in the image of a lover,
we just didn't ask which it was.

I have been granted
The gift, of you.
A sweet, joyous angel,
With a heart made for two.

Your precious soul,
So radiant of light.
Beaming greatly,
From day till night.

My heart is full,
When yours is too.
For a blessing like you,

I refuse to lose.

her words snap me back to reality,
away from supposition and hypotheticals,
into her arms where I feel safe.

blue eyes that pierce whatever darkness
i thought i had and lied to myself about,
eyes that see me for a who I am and who I want to be.

imagine walking down a darkened path,
content in the streetlights that guided
you home, and spotting something small
and kind. whatever it is you imagine,
it beckons you to hold it and when you do,
you smile, truly and impulsively.

that essence is a woman, and one i admire.
someone beatiful, kind, and funny,
including her incessant snoring on
already sleepless nights because a cat is begging for food but you feeling comfort
in their REM cycle. too little space
to be your own, but enough heart to bridge the gap.

imagine, then, that someone places
your hand on their lap when you drive,
but are equally willing to do the same,
in what feels like an equivalent exchange
of heart and sheer goofiness.

and tell yourself it doesn't feel right
that you were able to find home in them,
effortlessly and happily. you won't
and can't, and neither can i.

words can't express that she has been
friend, confidant, and a visual marvel,
and someone i envision as a pillar
of my bright existence.