As a child, I watched a toddler
friend playing a favorite game.
He pressed his forehead to his dad's,
chanting gleefully,"One eye, one eye, one eye!"
This is how another's eyes appear
when so close to one's own.
With this stepping back, I feel
cool air in place of the warmth
of our closeness. The rhythm
of our breathing may, in fact,
be different. Our pulse may not
be sensed under the fingers as
an unconscious regulation, unspoken
reminder that this is who we are.
This is how to be us.
But I begin to see you better--and
you are beautiful.
friend playing a favorite game.
He pressed his forehead to his dad's,
chanting gleefully,"One eye, one eye, one eye!"
This is how another's eyes appear
when so close to one's own.
With this stepping back, I feel
cool air in place of the warmth
of our closeness. The rhythm
of our breathing may, in fact,
be different. Our pulse may not
be sensed under the fingers as
an unconscious regulation, unspoken
reminder that this is who we are.
This is how to be us.
But I begin to see you better--and
you are beautiful.
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