here's to you, my love:
here’s to your hair,
the soft, soft strands on your head, light brown and golden
in bright light,
in my hands, stroking and detangling until your heartbeat
steadies.
here’s to your eyes,
hazel, streaked with green in your right, speckled with green in
your left,
kind,
soulful, charming, comfortable, i cannot look away.
here’s to your nose,
red in the cold,
warm and soft when you rub it against mine,
and we laugh and i brush my thumb against your cheek.
here’s to your lips,
the first lips that have met mine, delicate yet titillating,
curving into a smile from your hairline to your chin,
i could draw it in my sleep.
here’s to your shoulders,
broad and muscular and made to fit my head perfectly,
carrying the weight of the world, the burdens of your heart,
the things i’ve left room on my shoulders to carry with you.
here’s to your chest,
resembling sculpted marble under the hands of Michelangelo,
caging a heart of honey and sweet water and sunshine and
sunshine and sunshine,
steady under the palm of my hand.
here’s to your hands,
the scars and calluses, the story of you,
the things they create, bright and beautiful and true,
the way they feel on the small of my back, holding the pieces of
me together.
here’s to us,
and the simple fact that out of a hundred billion galaxies,
two hundred thousand years of humanity,
and seven and a half billion beating hearts,
mine and yours intertwined in the way that they did.
an old poem,
it was good while it lasted
