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.