The Way You Look at Me

I will only rest in your gaze

because the sound of my chatter

is mute in your presence.

 

And then when you hold my head up,

fingers cradling the soft spot

on my chin

no one touches,

the depth of my misunderstanding

drains

in your truth.

 

The light reacts on my skin,

my leaves in the morning,

between every layer

you illuminate.