Will always be our time
Before heartbreak, before pain
Long before our comfort is disturbed.
Where we’ll drift off during movies
In the dark evenings of autumn
Awkward limbs tangling together
As I reach for the mug in your grips.
Where those pretty eyes look through me
Like they’ve seen a hundred truths,
A thousand days spent together,
And a million little heartbreaks.
The all-seeing ones,
The one you use to watch me,
As I mouth the melodies we hold dear
To the little vaults we call hearts.
That speak a thousand truths,
As I read the braille left from childhood,
Resting on your steady hands.
Darling, with your words like marbled honey,
And your anxious grins,
As you stutter through dialects
With breathtaking charm.
Pretty eyes, you are many things,
But unloved is not one of them.