I want to know where all your scars are
and how you got them
and which one hurt the most.
I want to know the color of your skin
so well that I could compare it
to any grain of sand
on any beach
in any world.
I want to know how many eyelashes
you have wasted on a wish
and the strings attached to wishes
that pull you through the long hard days.
I want to know the taste of salt
in the tears that you have shed
and swim in the river of your joy.
I want to know the songs you sing
when you’re alone and you are falling
and the words that trigger tears
and jolts of breath.
I want to know what you have tried and quit
and wished you’d tried again
I want to know your thoughts on wonders of the world.
I want to know the secret meaning of the corner of your brows,
creasing downward in a room that’s full of strangers.
But most of all I want to know
what makes you feel alive
and suspended,
like the floating,
falling snow.
I want to know the way
your heart does pulse
your legs move back and forth
and the colors that are glowing bright inside.
And when you feel so warm, so bright,
so unconquerable and tall,
I want you to know
that I love you,
as you rise,
and as you fall.