I want to feel big,

I told you

as I traced fingers

along your skin:

 

I tapped your right cheek

saying,

with you I feel big;

 

tapping the left,

I whispered, 

instead of so small.

 

You brought your lips

to mine

kissed me

with

punctuation

I had yet to encounter,

even

in poetry.

 

I allowed myself

to look up:

to your kind eyes

that remind me

I am a writer

of moments

I deem big

(or quite small.)

 

And when we

are together

I learn

each day

has them all. 

 

but rarely, now

— if ever—

do I feel

I am

that small.

 

And I realize

this

is how I say

“I love you.”

 

(image by Marc Hanniet)