Those who say that love is blind
have never seen the way that your eyes sparkle
when Margaret crawls into your lap
and starts to purr.
It is an honor to be so trusted
by an animal with so little trust to give
and it makes me think that it would be alright
to give you some of mine.
Perhaps one day I will pour my trust
Into the swirls of your fingerprints
when you hold my hand in yours
as we walk to class.
Perhaps one day I will weave my trust
into the stands of your hair
when you lay your head on my lap
and sleep peacefully.
Perhaps one day I will breathe my trust
into the gap between your lips when we kiss
and you will breathe it in and know
that I am yours.
For now, though, I will wait
and hold your hand
like I am afraid to break it,
jerk my hands away from your scalp
the moment you start to stir,
turn so that your kisses land among the stars
against my cheek and chin and nose.
But you are patient,
and you are kind,
and you will wait for the day that I, like Margaret,
will crawl into your lap unbidden,
and be content enough to purr.