At the two-year mark, my love is at a place where my language starts to break down. The feeling I have is strong and deep, but it's also very simple. It doesn't have any reservations or conditions or conflicts of interest. It doesn't need to justify itself by the overuse of adjectives, ornate verbosity or ruffles. This love is a flat, cool, blue thing like a calm river or sky. It lies at the base and at the ceiling of my days and moves them along with a quiet constancy.
What would I have done otherwise? Maybe my nervous system would have short-circuited. Maybe I would have grown hard and jaded. Those were real fears for me once, but here I am. My heart as soft as a flower and my eyes are open.
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It's your very skeleton I love, dear.
The honesty in your gait,
The frank way your hands fall at your sides.
The earnest curve of your skull into your brow and then jaw.
I let my eyes fall
Into the places where you are most yourself
I am going to stay there forever
In the slopes and valleys of your bones.
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