I Love You, David Christopher!

On the bluff where you stood,

I looked up at you and thought

your smile was made of a million emeralds

and your innocence was palpable.

Such strong shoulders, too, which inched

up and down as if a gospel song had you under

its spell. So, you waded through the waters

of my own eyes and ships sunk irrepressibly

with clear sonar to find its way back.

Then I knew you were made of a thousand feathers--

each plucked from the phoenixes of my youth.

***

You first bought me a coat that I wore down to its filaments

and gave back to you for love potions, which made you

forget your way out, and I led you back to the promontory

where angels spoke of your heroic deeds.

That’s when I knew your heart was made of lavender,

and your stomach was made of cinnamon.

***

The whole rides we’ve had in taxi cabs with your certainty

and flashlights in no need of batteries

because you need nothing outside of yourself.

Unlike me. And that’s when I wanted to be more like you.

I still do. Nothing touches the magic of your whistles and whispers,

for they are not in vain but for heaven’s doorstep.

***

But I still can't place it.

There is something about your diaphanous

heart that makes mine beat a millimeter a second,

by the force of grace and baptism, directing us to the exits of

neon promise and calling each other by our Names.

For there is no memory that exists or is time-stamped

by our first drive Home. So, who knew it may have told the

foreseeable—that it would contain 26 years—

together, tethered, in a dance of unceasing Spirit.

***

So, how can I thank you enough? How can I connect my gratitude

with your uncrushable spine? No, I am yours forever.