I Wish You Could See You The Way I Do

I wish you could see you the way I do.

I wish you could see how the gray streaks in your once pure red Scottish/Viking hair says I know who I am because I’ve seen a few things — while still calling me forward with sexy self-posession.

I wish you could hear your laugh peeling across the house like a beautiful river of love that refreshes from the ear through all of me.

I wish you could see the freckles on your calves making me swoon a little inside with old and deep desire that wants to spring forward to meet your lips.

I wish you could see the way a wink from you across a room hits like an arrow to the heart and makes me feel like the only one in the room.

That you could see how your hands folded on the table before me hold me to calm the waters within.

How the sunlight flashes in your smile and lights up the sky.

How you bring forth the best in moments that are driving us all mad.

How despite your twitching dreams your marine eyes open to the morning with the clarity of good dreams.

How even under the armor of your anger formed in the fires of expectations and needs unmet, your tenderness breathes in tears and finds its way through even the smallest spaces, too big to be imprisoned by even the most airtight skin.

Yes, I wish you could see you the way I do.

See what I see.

Feel what I feel.

So you’d know that you are a star that shines even in daylight. A center of gravity for good that I am happy to circle until I die.