Reminders

If you sang to me
I'd watch the way your mouth moves
when your harmony leaves your lips.
Every note a little tiny love letter,
filled with reminders that they're only for me.

If you let me lay on your chest.
I'd listen to the beat of your heart,
pumping life into your body.
Every beat a little reminder that this is real.

If I lay naked with you at late hours of the night,
wrapped in eachothers arms like blankets,
I'd let your hands be curious,
until they found what they were looking for.
Just a reminder of how I want them there.

If your eyes locked with mine,
in a moment of uncertainty.
I'd just watch them watch me,
thinking of you.
We'd remember all we've shared.
Our memories would remind us not to give up yet.

If your hands curled to fists with anger,
when the world won't quit showing you its dark side,
and your eyes filled with rivers as big as the nile.
I'd hold your face in one hand, and your fists in the other.
I'd remind you that I'm still here.

If your knee met the ground,
and your soul asked me to become a part of it
for the rest of our lives,
I'd pull you up off of the ground and into my arms.
There's no reminders here,
I'd simply say, "yes."