I see you rising from below ground,
Knuckles white against the yellowed bronze
Of your suitcase handle.
See you smile as my hair swings behind me,
Felt our eyelashes kiss before opening,
Peeked a glance to find your hand waiting across the street,
Palm open.
Heard you introduce me to your friends in the distance,
Your footsteps no longer foreign.
Felt you scrape your nails across my breasts,
Heard you whisper persuasively,
It doesn't hurt,
It feels just fine...
But I never felt your smile warming my eyes upon waking.
I heard you yell, but
I never heard you sigh.
Its a transition of learning,
These trembling heartstrings being strengthened
by practice.
The truth begets the past because the present means,
He loves me just right.
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