not just plain brown

i shed my fear and stepped forward,
privately unafraid and stripped of delusions,
here
stepping into a new year, my eyes wide and reflecting
under no one’s stare but my own.

tu espejo, your mirror:

it makes my eyes shine, a little green around the edges; did you see me, lying in the sunlight reflecting grasslight in my pupils? only you have noticed in all these years that they’re not just plain brown;  the only one who has traced my tiny birthmark with love, searched for it and claimed it with your lips. 

only you, holding me in the dark through the distance, wrapping me in your breath.  i feel it against my neck, in my hair, imaginary but as real as the razor wind that whips me into submission each winter morning; only soft warm, only yours. único… you who revealed my deeply opened veins, and intertwined them with yours, bringing our blood to a heavenly boil. 

so who do i see? not just me.

not just me but my chorus of memories, i hear the opus we wrote; string our words together in a line and we could build a bridge to each other, woven together with paper kisses and unanswered phone calls, tears, luxurious naps, and the whispers that were lost under the moonlight.

 the gift you gave me more than two years ago along with that fateful cup of coffee: el espejo de la esperanza.