What You Never Know

Published in Lost in Tall Grass (Finishing Line Press 2014)

Looking up at her
as she looks away,

the blue vein under her chin
close enough to lick, 

you wait for her eyes
to come back to you.

She scoops a stray curl behind your ear.
Your curls hers to tuck and twirl, brush out at night, cut or not

and you surrender them to her
just to feel the tip of her finger curve around your ear.

And all the while she marvels that her hand knows to do it
gesture passed from fingertip to ear to fingertip.

Every day memorizing your face
the weight of your head against her chest.

She opens her drawer of lavender-scented scarves to delight you
And you watch her close her eyes.