It’s a Thank You
Written in scrambled letters
Tied with scared promises
Sealed with tired kisses or the proposition of such

It’s for knowledge, trust, and a secret
A right where you taught wrong (or perhaps a right I didn’t quiet understand yet)
A motion of everything known to knowledge of everything thought

It’s for acceptance
Written arms with a sheltering embrace
An open ear for listening
A motion and love for chance

It’s for broken guitar strings and what I learned from listening
The way you called me out and held me still; calming whimpers with calloused fingers
The tight grip on my hand when I was close to breaking
Promises held in each word you’d said – and have said – and will say

It’s for broken sentences
The absence of periods, continued thoughts (though broken)
Pulling bricks down and out of cryptic desires
The permission of asking

It’s for comfort and control
Two a.m. wake up calls
Whistled coffee
Worried knowledge with cream understanding

It’s for you
Green eyes, cryptic smiles
Careful collars, skinny jeans

It’s for me.

A promise, an always, a Thank you.