When I think of you, I feel safe.

Where the gradient of blonde locks to dark roots may to someone else appear unruly, to me it is the ocean meeting the sand, the setting sun over grassy fields, the image of serenity.

Where large strong hands hold mine with the grip of a soldier, I only feel warmth, I see two people with attraction like magnets, opposing sides of the same stone.

Where stray hairs make rough stubble, like a minefield littered across your face, I see constellations painted with close precision, feel the feather light tickle of your skin on mine.

Where hazel eyes speckled with gold are merely needed for sight, I see sorrow, compassion, loss, affection and love. I see you through the windows by which you see me.

Where pink lips convey their own stanzas and poems, I see soft tongues mingling, mouths moving, teeth clicking, hair pulling, two people merging to one.

I see worlds where you stand. I see so much more than ocean sands and soldiers hands. Windows and minefields and wounds only time heals.

When I think of you I feel safe.

I don’t think I could ever return to fear.