the best
friends
are
not the
ones
who
love
us
because of
who we
are

they are
the
ones
who
love us
in spite
of
it.

I let
you
close
just
not
too
close.

I
never
allowed myself
to be
honest,
never told
you
anything
that
might
make you
uncomfortable
might shatter
your illusion
of who
you wanted
me to be.

I kept
enough of
myself
hidden
ensuring
you would
never
get a firm
hold on
any part of
me.

I
never
turned to
you,
keeping you
safe
from
me.

When you
would ask
the questions
you
really
did not
want the
answers to
I told
you
pleasant
myths -
bedtime stories
while tucking
you in.

When
I
finally
stood
before you
vulnerable,
real,
you
looked
right
through
me…
searching for
the illusion.

You
never
saw
me.

Memories
of you
of us

Of you
in me,
in my head
my bed.
Your touch
taste,
how
the shadows
played
upon your
face
above me

Memories
of you
of us

Of long
separations
things left
unsaid
long
silences

Flickers
that
still
can
make me
sigh,
gasp

Memories
of you
of us

Of then
of now

No regrets
or
recriminations
just
a wink
and
a smile.

There is
a thing
You
do,
a
tone
you get.

It is
so tender,
so intimate

like
a caress.

I hear
that
sound
that
tone

and
suddenly

I am
aware.

Aware
of
my
skin.

Alive

Tingling

From
that
sound
that
tone
in
your
voice.

You are my secret smile
The one that creeps into my eyes
brightening them, adding spark
The one that turns the corners
of my mouth
ever so slightly upward
warming me from the inside out.

You are my Mona Lisa smile
The one that no one understands
No one but you and me.