Becoming known

Wild and scratched in the underbrush

Heart racing, fur matted in blood

I wait

For you.

I see patches of you.

And what is most wounded will in time

Come out and want to be seen, at first.

Then held and learned of, slowly,

And then known and loved,

Fully.

And I may see your eyes unblinking for the first time

In clear day.


And then, when courage has filled me, I’ll ask, in some way, the same of you.

Relaxed and unguarded

What would it take to be completely unguarded with another person? Relaxed. Fists down. It's a level of intimacy that's rare to find, hard to maintain, even easy to dismiss at first, but once you land there in that soft place, all the air comes out of your lungs. (The big exhale you didn't realize you really needed, because you didn't realize just how long or strangely you've been holding your breath). The tension eases from your limbs and you feel like yourself, maybe for the first time. Or you feel like your best self.

It takes an amazing amount of trust to even image this would be a good idea, because when you deeply relax and let go, you expose yourself to being mortally wounded. Just one well placed strike will kill you, or disfigure you beyond recognition, and some of us don't look the same because of this. And of course you expose yourself to being mortally loved from this same thing, which is why if it ever happens, if the chance truly comes along -- it's worth it.

Somehow, it is.