A gentle caress by a single calloused thumb, sends my timid eyes in search of the sky.

A sky I find within patient eyes, brighter than the clearest days of August.

They are tired, but bright
With a heart within them, I've found to be bared for me to grasp.

I fear if I grip this heart too hard, I will unintentionally fracture a blood vessel that connects it to his soul.

Or if I drop it, whether intentionally or not, I fear it will shatter; rupturing his soul completely.

I fear I am a burden.

I fear that I am just incapable of loosening the vice grip that keeps me floating in a sea of despair.

But what if there is another option?

I question this as those eyes begin to melt, and a smile stretches its way across a radiant face.

His hand, rough from years of living, entangles in my unwashed, unruly hair, and for a moment my breath is stolen away.

There is a silent way he begs me to just release my inner pain, for once and finally -

Eyes pleading, yet shining happily.

His grip firm, yet gentle, in the way he brushes loose strands back from my tear-stained face.

I have been told not to make a home out of another's skin, but I felt the rush that came with transferring hearts.

The moment I felt the difference in the epicenter of my chest.

When his pain became my pain.

When my fear became his fear.

When finally my heart beat for him.

It happened gradually-
sometime between being rescued from myself when the snow lay on the ground, and the sunflowers that tower us now-

That my home is where he is;
With his patient blue eyes and humbling smile.


© krystlereisler