Old Friends

hi
it's been a while since i've allowed you to look at me
this way.
seeing past my sin, my prayers my actions
and straight to my heart 

letting you sit with me on the quiet days, when i can't seem to form holy words
learning your majesty in empty cups and dirty sidewalks 


i have been one with hands gripped to the tool
working more, loving less

but you are gently unfurling my fists
placing strawberries in my palm
making me feel the bark of a tree
reminding me that hands are made to hold
another
meant to wipe away tears and strum guitars
hands are personal 

and i've been learning about yours 


sometimes i forget that letting you have your way with me
means
paint splattered clothes as i listen to you opera/jazz/funk sing out your new composition while i
try and get the story right, you don't mind odd strokes but despise boxed passion

maybe i'll read your letters while glancing at you from time to time, letting you flip the page
instead of reading them like we're long-distance

i wonder, if you ever hum? 


Jesus the disciples got to
go on boats with you and watch you a ride a colt that's never been ridden before, they saw

you silence Pharisees and make prostitutes feel beautiful in a way they've never felt before

they walked miles with you, knew your every facial expression and even your catchphrases

they've been frightened to death on the mount of Transfiguration

and humbled speechless as you kneeled to wash their feet in a house 


it's been a while since i've allowed you into every conversation,
every thought and dream
like what wouldn't you know about Shakespeare or not getting the perfect technique or chocolate
fetishes because nothing is hidden in your sight and

you are the CREATOR,

you know how to start
and end
every conversation. 


i think i will allow you to take me dancing more often
cause when we do it's wild
making thunderstorms and meteor showers seem calm
whoa. hallelujah. 
 
 
 


i want to be old friends with you, with secrets between us
running deeper than the sea into prehistoric rocks
knowing you beyond even time would allow 

to know your laugh, and to know
the touch of your hand.