Penny-times-twenty

I'd give a penny (times twenty;

I'm poor, you know) for every time

I could open up my head and heart

And put you there so you could see 

Every time I think of you, or see you,

Or witness you in your

Endless, beautiful action;

Or just you, quiet, unmoving

(Which is rare) without your

Arsenal of self-assuring practices

You ensconce and you bulwark

Yourself with, even though

You are so more-than-perfect,

And daresay more-so, perfect,

Just the way you are:

The way you wear your heart

Inside the tiny creases of your brow, as you

Carry those around you on a back

That yes, is broad, but tired, and

No one sees that, and you try to reason with

Yourself that you

Prefer it that way.

The way your voice grows softer,

Almost-growling when you try to

Let your defense down, but still

Are scared and trying to deny the fact

That you have needs and

Wants that you have finally

Attempted to accept; if not

For my sake.

The way you could be one who drives the

Biggest, most expensive car

And wear the best, expensive clothes

And talk the highest, haughty talk

(As you have the right to!)

Walk the least-besoiling walk

Above the people you’ve committed to

Like those who put you there
So horribly do;

But there you are, chin-deep in grease

And running breathlessly and grinning

With your tray of service, honesty,

Betraying who you are.

The way you stop.

Lie down amongst the strangest places:

On the very floor where those you serve 

Have sprung from. 

Or the way you look
When you place fingers to face
And close your eyes,
And are,
Thinking no one is looking.

Or, the way you come through for me

The way I need

Each time

Each way
Each unexpected moment
Of each day,
Infusing life back into me

Beyond what I possibly could have

Envisioned for myself by far.