Today

I’ve never seen

your eyes,

your lips

like this.

You never knew

that all I could see in you

was what I’d painted you

to be.

You were an empty canvas,

my heart

the desperate painter.

You were only

what I made you.

But today

your eyes are oceans,

I can see

the waves crashing,

taste the bitter,

salty air.

Your lips whisper;

I can feel every word,

smell each syllable

drenched

in this new emotion,

sweet like honey,

sticky,

smooth,

flowing from your mouth.

I search

for the familiar indifference.

Who is this?

Who are you

breathing promises,

the excess dripping

from your tongue?

I’ve never seen

your eyes,

your lips

this clearly.

Have I changed

or have you?

The world is different

today.

I cling to your voice,

the churning water

in the depths of your eyes.

You look into mine

and see

what you never thought you wanted

but can’t live without.

Today I’ve changed,

but only to you.

Because

I’m no longer

a well of bitterness

and desperation,

but instead,

the one who brought

the dancing, crashing ocean

to your eyes.