I want to soothe the ache out of your skin.

I want to make you well with my magic.

I want to blossom into your irises each morning 

as you wake, letting you know it’ll all be okay.

I want to pour your first cup of coffee the way you like it,

dark as tar and as strong as I can stand it.

I want to stand in your doorway, watching as you get dressed

for a day neither of us can predict.

I want to make you safe with my magic,

but we both know that’s not up to me.