You came to me, a magnetic force, with your denim blue eyes.
I didn’t know you, understand you, and held myself back, from you.
A raised eyebrow, skepticism, amusement. I couldn’t tell if you mocked me…or liked me.
I caught your glance, uninhibited in a moment of extreme clarity. All of that passion you held inside, let loose, careened at me like a ten-ton cannonball and I fell.
Your words were poetry and heartache, an artist’s rendition of dearth and greed, but were never for me.
My averageness stilled around me like stagnant water when I wanted ocean waves exploding with seawater and strength just to compel you.
Which I never could.
You patted my head, kissed my cheek, touched your index finger to my nose with an endearing smile.
And all the while I thought, this should be enough, enough, enough for me, for now.
Until you smiled at a another woman, gazing at her as if she held your salvation.
Her beauty, her smile were enough for you for a bit of time.
There was a total eclipse that day I heard you died. A halo held the sun, the moon spun in erratic orbits. I slept too long. I wished for total darkness to take me. And when I awoke, it felt as if the sun would never rise again although it held firmly in the sky, so defiant. As I sat alone, hands clasped, my cotton nightgown a frail armament. I knew my sun was you. It had always been you.