i want to hear what you have to say. i'm interested. tell me all the smallest details that will make me fall in love with you. then do that thing you do with your eyes and the fringes of the bangs that fall scattered between those dark eye lashes and eyebrows neatly tried and full. i want to hear about the women in third world countries you met on your summer help tour that looked to you so motherly to teach them of your wisdom and compassion. you tell me you felt sorry for them for how beautiful they were. they are a little naive yet humble and still courageous to nature. most importantly, they respected you. this is when i feel your deep connection with things in bigger senses.
i want you to tell me about who you met in the waiting room of the auto center as you passed time for your oil change. it's always someone old and alone. even if it was interesting, you kept picking their memories making them shovel heaps of details and feelings ever producing the greatest of story tellers. you don't, but i know, they leave with their day made a bit brighter because of you. and you never have to say much.
you dress weird. i never know what's next and those colors, i didn't think would ever go together. you wake up in time periods and i enjoy it. it's funny how you always end up the same person. and i have a little secret. those colors don't go together at all, but you get away with it and everyone loves you. that makes me hate you a little bit. because i know.
soon, you tell me about how things became a mess and how you feel stuck. you complain about your job. it gets moodier, and as you go on, i wish i had been there when you were to help you along. the cracks on the corners of your lips will rise and you begin enthusiastically about your next new adventure and how all you need is a little time. but who's counting? you invite me with you as you glance your head towards my direction. i will sit there dumbfound not at the fact that you said that as conversation filler or were tired of talking and wanted a verbal relay baton to transition, but that it actually spills out of your mouth.
we will have spoken too long and are tired, but always propose each other to a home movie and we both say yes for our own good.
but i never hear what i want to hear and you never tell me these things.
so i start to stare into her eyes. i look for some spark of life that i can connect with and i can't find it. she resonates her own light, but it's me that doesn't see the depth and my eyes become those ocean eyes.