His eyes are like a challenge

they say more than the politicians and activists

they are dark, but so full of... him.

He laughs, from his sternum to his throat,

head thrown back as if he never learned

there are burdens to be carried.

His scorn must be my favorite.

Utterly brash, unyielding, and confident

Locomotive like, barreling into the subject of his annoyance.

He drinks, the drunk mouth on him is sour-sweet.

he kisses slow and spills compliments

lazily telling all he sees in me and refusing to compromise on anything

His sleep is like its always raining.

deep, when you'd expect a military man to be alert

Snoring, with a bama hat turned backwards

He is the mountains,

All of their quiet resilience in a man.

And a budding avalanche, frozen snow, desperate for human touch.

I am kinetic energy,

a mind like a hummingbird's wings in flight

jaded blue eyes; fingers fluttering for purchase

He is atoms clutched tight;

And I don't know if I'd like to see him unleashed.

But in his presence, I am still on the bank,

My toes in the lake, my fingers in the moss

Unhurried, unworried, about what comes next.