He is a cup of tea, half a spoon’s worth of sugar, no milk
He is blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, gold eyes (he changes with the light)
He is Newton’s law and all the questions to doubt all laws
He is faith in you when you left yours somewhere behind
He is the slice of pie that you saved for later
He is the friendly stranger
who suddenly was there before the afterthought
who suddenly was a year long travel pass
who suddenly was a permanent host to your neuroses
who suddenly was a confidante above all others
and suddenly you can’t remember whether it’s because he forgot to say goodbye or you forgot to leave.
He is the last reason to stay.
James and Daisy, contrasted
He is the whisper of feet against varnish,
the polished floor, so clean you can see yourself mirrored in it,
clear and familiar.
i am the sound that is stuck in your head like a brain itch-
you can’t figure out what it is, it could be incomprehensible
but really it’s only the noise fabric makes as it falls apart,
gently, thread by thread.
i am the second stumble
that comes after the first fall,
just when you think you’ve righted yourself, you topple again.
He is the hand that extends
to grab yours and keep you
from going face first, and will steady you until you fall another time.
I am the innumerable trips you take when you are finding your feet.
He is the pair of shoes taken off and placed beside the front door.
I am lost somewhere between check-out and the departure lounge.
He is at the arrivals gate.
He is numbers and equations and semantics and answers.
I am words and punctuation and pedantics and questions.
He is doubt and wariness and surety.
I am always wavering, between faith and nothingness.
We are both confused.
