The Stranger

You move in and out of my days,
with a line, or two, or three; 
video conversations late at night
as eyelids grow heavy 
and the mind fills with wonder.
You have kind eyes.
I just want to be held in your gaze
like a butterfly on a palm of a loving hand.
Though a perfect stranger 
to the physical realm of my existence,
you are a familiar companion.
We have lived a thousand lifetimes
untangling this tortured, knotted energy, 
one careful move at a time.
There is a sparkle that shoots up 
from below the dusty ropes 
of today's bondage
to other people's feelings and opinions,
to the fear of loss,
to the fear of not measuring up
through each unspoken 
and each misplaced word.
The brightness of your smile covers up
the heaviness you carry,
and I am right there with you.
It might be that this is the way 
we make it through; 
the universe's way of saying
"you don't have to go at it alone."
We keep the conversation going,
shifting from deep to shallow,
smooth to turbulent
and back again,
as we titter-totter
between wanting and avoiding 
that loud, revealing sound 
of silence.
Yearning to linger just a bit longer, 
holding on to the moment 
before it fades out,
we glide into the unknown.
Sweet dreams,
kind stranger.
Thank you for your time.