You're A New One Poem by Maya Hanson

From a distance I could see you
as any of the faces I've tried to lock in the back of my mind,
anyone I've tried to let go of with the palms
that have held tears as well as they hold people.

But you're a new one-
up close I can't see you
as any laugh except for
the teasing one that makes you look like we could lasso the sun.

Up close I can't see you
as any hands except for
the ones that look so different so much the same as mine
and maybe they hold tears too.

Up close, even when you're tired
I can still see the life that wears you like a second skin
You can make yawning attractive.
Tell me that's not hard to do.

I want to buy something with you
even if it's just a desk lamp,
I know we can make enough light in this room
without even touching it.

I want to leave something behind with you,
maybe a gravel road in flames at dusk,
maybe the words you've regretted regretting,
maybe fearing broken glass,
if we're cut open bleeding it's just ecstasy in a warning sign.

I want to save something with you
even if it's just a dream,
even if it's just reality.