Light brown and lovely

Moles, blemishes, freckles. Wrinkles by the eyes. Hair tight from a perm, hair loosened by teasing fingers. Skin rough, skin smooth, skin warmed by the sun. Eyes bright, no longer needing glasses but for the longest time losing lenses in my rugs. Something about the way you looked at me, tilted you head and snifted. A highly developed sense of smell you said. Something that we both shared, had in common.

Moles strategically placed just so. Freckles large and small and scattered about like wild strawberries on your shoulders. Shoulder to shoulder we looked like twins. In so many ways we were. The way we would finish each other's sentences, the way we picked up on tonal nuances in each other's voices, the way we generated laughter and teasing and such in each other. We found pleasure in small explorations, we took time uncovering subtleties, we tenderly held each's hearts as easily as we held each other's hands while driving.

But it's those moles I come back to, you see. I thought about them this morning first thing. I thought about how they looked late at night in the light of that reading lamp by the side of my bed. I thought how they looked in soft grey light of that storm the day before Easter. I thought about how they must have looked when you put on that Pinto Pony shirt for the first time and hid them away from me. I thought of them this morning and wondered how there were. Are they still coveted? Kissed? Tenderly stroked?

Moles, freckles, blemishes. Lines around your mouth. The small sags of time on your belly and in places touched by worry and love and living. I think about a lifetime of waiting versus a lifetime of living and thought in order to be able to see those moles and freckles and lines again that I better get on with my living. I think of how those walks work our arches and our feet and our knees. Having seen all those things, those feet that I cupped, those knees that I touched in passing, that back that was a literal playground of freckled delight, make me realize that they are things I truly wish to see again someday.

I suppose I did this morning, in the soft grey light of dawn, when I woke up and thought of you. Thought of your eyes, the soft lines around your mouth, the fine lines that spread joy outward towards the sun. I closed my eyes and there you were, freckles and moles and lines and all. The blue green of your eyes penetrating my wakelessness, your face close enough to startle my goatee.

Ok, darlin', tuck your hair behind your ears and put away your glasses, we're going exploring. And this next go round we'll go exploring in full out daylight. Love you out loud, indeed. Yeah, this next time you can be as loud as you want to be.

Yours, WHMB