For now

Sometimes it’s good. Most of the time. Sometimes it’s beyond good. Sometimes it’s indescribable. Like trying to pull orange from amber; like trying to coax red from crimson. Content with just knowing I can do it.

It’s that look, more than anything. That look that compels me to reach for the stars. That turns all my pain into poetry; that sees beyond my fears. It’s that look that chases away all my doubts. They will return, of course, like they always do. Timid mice peeking through the cracks of life, hoping the coast is clear. But for now I have a place to fall. A shoulder to touch and cry on. For now I have a place to keep my secrets.