You Could Light Up Cities With Your Eyes (And I Would Watch, Hoping You'll Turn to Me)

i’ll never tire of the way you speak.
you let words fall from your lips
and they drip to the floor. if you’d
ever look down, you would call it art.
but you never look down.
 
you keep your chin up and stare
at the world with fire in your eyes.
you shine brilliantly, even in the dark.
the light is inside you, and you never
hide it away. you’re bold and sharp,
but not in such a way that it scares
people off. everyone loves you so.
 
some nights you dim, and you let
me stay with you. i caught the tears
from your eyes with my chapped lips
and you started looking at me different.
 
you talk about everything and nothing,
somehow turning even insignificant things
into beautiful pieces of the world that
everyone else looked over. nothing
escapes from your watchful eyes. bright
and burning, even (especially) in the
dead of winter, when you look at me
and you smile like you know something
that i don’t know. and i don’t mind.
 
when i met you i felt something that
i had never felt before. it was cutting
and soft and bright. when you looked
at me, i fell apart and the light in your
eyes stitched me back together.
i thought of words, tried to describe it.
love. lust. beauty. art. brilliance.
but none of them worked.
 
your name is the only word that fits,
that encompasses the magnitude
of what i feel. nobody else quite
understands, but you smile in the
quiet way that you do, and that’s
the only thing that matters.