Trusted allies, well of wisdom wrapped up in similar shapes and molds.
The eyes have it.
Seeing each other through prisms of familiarity.
Good days and bad moments spurn closeness as beating hearts drown out permanence of breaks.
Laughing, crying, little hands cutely intertwined through episodes of favorites.
Only the keen notice firm bonds, softly, silently, enveloping busy spaces.
Childhood pettiness will mature into deeper fondness with reassurances of partnerships.
Hidden translations, long and short, will never escape nor will temptation assign spoken betrayals that fragment gift of trust.
Shattering dignity of birthrights.
Youthful distances will transform into decisions to boldly declare this love affair of a lifetime.
Long, hair, short hair, dark lip, faint foundation, keepers of each other when mirrors fail, and no one else will do.
And when it gets hard, because we know it does — secrets!
You confess. Cry them into hot tears that are mimicked by the features you’ve grown to adore.
It’s ugly. It gets uglier.
There’s nowhere to turn in the darkest of hours. When breathing hurts and the sound of happiness is piercing.
You want to fly away and look down with victory.
You used to be able to share everything, even in jest when seriousness douses silky eyeballs.
You call too many times and get the stern warning of used up credit, and insist you’re worth it.
She believes you are. It used to work.
Not this time.
It’s a nightmare to visualize disbelief. Rejection and the slamming of what’s so precious that departing souls actually beg.
Yet, it’s gone.
But she brings it back. Unexpected.
It was a joke about how you would push her hand away when yours was heating up.
You say the love was more than you could stand.
She says, she feels it now.
Tears. Tears she can’t see.
Your voice remains the same.
She asks why. Your eyes open.
You imagine what it would be like to tell her everything.
I wish I had you.