in a word,
Six hands, three mouths, six eyes, one circle we’ll never break.
Six hands that make music,
fingers that waltz across piano keys,
across each other’s hair,
across game controllers,
to press on each other’s noses:
Three mouths that shout
and sing pretty melodies
and make weird noises.
Six eyes (four of them brown)
to stare into each other’s eyes
“Are you okay?”
“What gender are you today?”
Six eyes (two of them blue)
when everything goes wrong
and the world crashes inward and falls
on our heads
and tears and crowns fall alike.
Six eyes (all of them true)
to captivate each other
to hold the world
to crinkle as we laugh and cry with laughter
the world is funny.
sore from carrying backpacks full of pressure
to be dysphoric about
not wide enough.
Six shoulders, all strong enough
to cry on.
2. When I said ¨I Love You¨
Both of you.
two pairs of soft brown eyes staring back at me.
the last “I love you” still hanging in the air
But one of you (the one who said it back)
“I love you too.”
all dark hair
and open arms,
you wear your body like a suit
your mother bought you
that doesn’t really fit.
And you, the other (the one who can’t say it)
“I don’t bond easily.”
soft flyaways give you a halo like the angel you are.
The angel who hasn’t said “I love you ” since last April
You are shorter than the other,
and (today at least),
you wear your body like a favorite shirt.
You know the one,
worn smooth from years of washing,
fitting perfectly on the shoulders you hate so much,
the color faded but beautiful,
just like you.
Both of you.
Dear Both of You,
neither of you are who I thought you would be
and both of you are so beautiful.
One of you, seemingly hopeless, hair and eyes dark,
face turned downward,
though you stand open to me.
The other, seemingly hopeful, eyes brown, but a corona of gold adorns you,
your eyes turn upward,
open to everyone.
both of you,
3. The Day I Knew I Loved You
You both sat on the swings,
laughing like children,
you are children.
Beautiful, beautiful children,
There is truly nothing more magnificent
than a head tipped back in laughter.
One of you covers his face,
hides his mouth,
covers his vulnerability.
The other opens their mouth to the world.
A mouth too wide for their face,
a laugh too big for their tiny little body
a joy that bursts from their sternum to fill the space around them
And I watch,
from the sidelines,
watching over you,
my hopeless protection covers you,
both of you.
all I can hear
is the obnoxious teasing
“Your feet don’t touch the ground!”
and see the retaliating glare
the shorter one
gives the taller,
and I can hear the resounding echo
of a love too deep for words.
I watch over you.
Both of you.