There is something about the wrinkles fitting together so well even though they rest on different hands 

I see him raise a finger to her chin despite his arm being more stone and stiff than bone and bicep these days 

There is something about the reflex of it 

How many times does your mouth have to tell someone they are beautiful before they will believe the same from just your eyes? 

 

I cannot tell yet if she needs him

If she ever did 

And maybe that’s the wonder of it

The wanting so deeply of that which you never needed

Simply desired 

Simply asked to the dance

And kept wanting even after the needs became louder and more envious 

And maybe that’s the wonder of it 

That he wanted her back just as much

Enough to let his needs keep hers company 

 

I had been trying to decide if I was a lonely person 

to figure out if death was scary only because I had been told so 

To decide if I wish to find out how brave I could be 

with only my own bones to keep me company  

If I could ever discover love 

When for me, love is more like faith 

In that, I had never seen it with my own eyes 

Only read myths of its strengths  

Asked to trust the children it had raised as prophets 

 

Until today in the hospital waiting room,

And their security radiated across the carpet 

As she giggled at his words 

There is something about looking at someone and knowing

you have built a miracle together.