Light Patterns

she can sing.
it’s a little known fact
only those closest to her
know.

she does not like
to find herself in the center of attention,
save for certain celebrations, and certain company.
still, if people knew she could sing, they would ask her to, and for those she loves most, she’d brace anxiety for,
so she reserves singing
for times when she is alone, and in front of those with whom she feels most comfortable, which are few.

and him…
she had yet to meet him
save for in her dreams,
but she already knew
with his head on her chest,
to ease his woes, she would sing him to sleep.
she wants nothing more.

all she wants is to kiss his scars
and to show him the kind of softness
the world so rarely does.

there is something
about him…
he brings out sides of her she didn’t know existed. He introduced her to herself.
how could she resist the irresistible grasp?
it drew her
like patterns of light from a sunrayed glass door dancing across the darkness of a cold wooden floor.

he calls to her…
he, her raging fire
and her, his calming rain.