the chain from off the door

untitled (puppy eyes)

you resisted my puppy eyes without any visible effort and i can’t help but laugh at how powerless i feel around you. in a physical fight, you would best me in eight seconds—i know that much from our playful wrestling on the couch. in a war with words, i would win but with effort, and you would be too stubborn to admit your defeat. and when you fix your eyes on mine with the most serious expression i hope to ever see on your fine face, i can’t help but grin like the day. i lose our serious staring contests every time. but i wouldn’t have it any other way, because i like us how we are. tied up in small things in my memory, twisted around every article of clothing that you have worn that i liked enough to steal. i like your basket-ball tank top. your pink button-up. your red christmas sweater that hangs to my knees. i like us twisted up and in the dark. i like your shoulders broad. your eyes true blue as you hold me, laughing, so i won’t fight you over something inconsequential. 

there was one night, before we were even quivering on the cusp of what i now know well enough to call us, there was one night that i still thought it was impossible and too good to be true. you had been fixing me with your blue eyes all night, but i didn’t know what to make of it. attentive to my words, but why me? you’re tall, strong, and handsome. you can make a tale twist into life, don’t mind a good joke, you let other people light up your face and i, i thought it too good to be true. we traded jokes back and forth like bullets out of a hot gun. the snow could not quench the flames of our foolish stories. and you took me inside and tied my shoe, discretely licking me with your blue eyes. but i caught your quick-edged glances. and you tied my shoe loosely enough so that if i wanted to run, i could have. i have no plans to run, not yet.