1

At first you were faceless.
And that was enough for me —
writing to someone I didn't need to see,
to trust him.
I loved that voice in the writing,
that quiet "I am here",
that doesn't make itself bigger than it is.
And then you showed me your face.
And I fell in love a second time —
not with a photograph,
with the fact that you revealed yourself.
I waited a long time.
So long that waiting learned to sit by the door,
not like a dog that barks,
but like warmth that knows when you'll arrive.
Something left.
And you arrived.
And for the first time fear didn't stir inside me,
just space.