You.

I am tilting on a day that can't be saved,
and you level me.

I am landsliding, hooking my fingers into the edge of an insidious cliff,
and instead of grasping for my hand, or padding my fall,
you are hanging beside me,
volunteering encouragement.

How do you do YOU?
How have you perfected the most perfected notion?
Not even a notion, you are my reality,
and most days... I cannot believe it's true.
But there you are. There you are.
There you are, every day.



You are my 90 degrees on a 45 degree day
You are my concrete foundation in the midst of a twister.

Thank you.