Your eyes smile at me innocently and mischievously,
A perfect paradox, but all paradoxes are perfect,
For aren’t you?
You laugh instead of cry only to keep me whole,
Safe in your arms, hidden from the complexities.
But aren’t you all of them?
You massage my neck instead of your own,
Easing out the pain that is as easily yours as it is mine,
Keeping a smile on my face,
But don’t you want to smile too?
You save me instead of yourself,
For you say the act of keeping me whole
keeps you so as well.
The world’s perfect paradox: love.
The Inexplicable 