9.18.2015

stomach cartwheels and a fear of heights

we climbed the ladder and my teeth chattered. 
my spine chattered. 
my knees chattered.
my mind chattered.
i was nervous--afraid of heights
taking it slow, but taking it in

we sat atop the city that night
and saw a shooting star...the closest one i've ever seen
we laughed and spoke of things that matter
alone and closer than we've ever been

it's the way he talks about his future
the picture he finger-paints with careful hands
his idea of love in every detail,
using any and all shades of red

it's the way my stomach does cartwheels
and i take cover when the sparks start to fly
because i've learned to be afraid of real things
and something this real can't be denied

it's the way his eyes matched the jacket that wasn't blue or green
the way they are a color somewhere beautifully in between
i see it when i close my eyes, the way he looks at me gently
not searching for or expecting anything--just seeing.

but even more than this it's just the way i feel around him...

happy. loved. alive.







1 comment:

  1. Don't let anyone call you a tourist
    Cause you're running the show

    Tosh

    ReplyDelete