Saturday, April 23, 2016

Hours

Morning 

The coffee is almost done and the house smells wonderful, just as you said it would. You are asleep and I am watching you, tracing your profile with my eyes--those remarkable lines, cuts, corners, turns and drops, all pathways leading somewhere where you are you, and which I want to spend the rest of my life exploring. You once expressed worry over making sure I would not get restless--what you can't seem to see is that your presence is all I need to keep me feeling alive. You could spend the entire day fixing the roof, or mooning over a wall, for all I care--as long as I know you are here, I will be all right, all will be all right. Time and place become irrelevant. Anywhere is everywhere. You can paint anything the color of magic. 

Afternoon 

Nothing like an afternoon drive along the highway with you to remind me that we are on our way to something beautiful--no, in fact, we are already here, traveling the road of our lives together, our souls entwined as if they were always meant to grasp each other. The approaching twilight doesn't seem so daunting anymore. How could it when I have you here beside me? The light in your eyes mirrors the core of the sun, magnificent in its blanket of bursting hues--all made more beautiful because you are here to light up the dusk for the rest of my life. Do I dare dream of a rest-of-my-life with you? Ah, but meeting you alone has already been too wondrous for words. Surely, a girl can dream. 

Evening 

Outside, the shades of dusk render the world mellow and calm. Evening is well on its way somewhere, people are on their way home, lost in the rush of things. Here, you are reading the lines of a poem I love, a little baffled at the verses but reciting the words, anyway. My heart is in my throat, amazed at the newness you show me each day, afloat in the clouds because no one has read me poetry before, when poetry makes up half the loves of my life. The sound of your voice feels so much like home, like warmth, like all the things I have loved and will always love. What is this sorcery you possess that makes me feel weak and so alive, at the same time? 

Night

The threat of time forgotten, we dance to the beat and words of a song we both love. There is nothing quite like the feeling of your arms wrapped around me, your hands caressing the small of my back, your breath against my ears, my neck, my shoulders. I touch my face to yours and a feeling of fulfillment washes over me when I see your eyes closed in rapture and peace, all at once, because your happiness is mine, too. You've often said you will make me fall in love with you everyday. And because you are the man with the golden touch, my love, and you can do anything you put your mind to--you have done exactly that. 

Saturday, April 2, 2016

Hours

I want to be the ray of sunlight that slants across your cheek, whose warmth and light you wake up to. I want to be the window that lets in that light. 

I want to be the door that lets you into the porch where a mild breeze stirs and touches you; I want to be that breeze. The view of the sea that welcomes you each morning--I want to be that view. I want to be that sea. I want to be that morning.

I want to be the cool afternoon wind that caresses you as you walk along the shore. I want to be the sand beneath your feet. I want to be the horizon you look toward, I want to be the thoughts you think when you look at that horizon, watching the sunset. I want to be that sunset.

I want to be the sky you look up to when the stars start coming out. I want to be the constellations you look for; I want to be that one last, lost star that will complete your blanket of light. 

I want to be the moonlight reflected on the water, calming the tempests in your mind. I want to be the calm you seek, the moonbeam that kisses your eyelids close, the music in the waves that lull you to sleep. I want to be those waves.

The night that encloses you in its embrace as you lay dreaming--I want to be that night, I want to be that dream.