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These are my thoughts, yo.

You Make Sense of Me

jasmine banks

  I woke up this morning and stretched and unfurled my body much like a cat does. Another night of nightmares left me still wanting for sleep. I turned over and pushed the body pillow wedged between us away so that I could nestle in closer to you. The early morning sun cascaded into the room and I watched for a moment as the flecks of dust  in the air danced on the patterned rays of sunlight.  They moved in and out and floated on the light. Those same rays reached and touched your left shoulder. Your shoulder was bare, save for the myriad of brown freckles, and tucked close to your face.  I laid still with the pillow tucked under my neck and watched you. Your breathing was rhythmic and you mumbled a bit in your sleep.

I've spent each morning of the last month much like this. I am constantly stunned into silence by your beauty, but if there is anything that renders me speechless, it is how you keep making sense of me.

How you came to love me I don't know. Maybe you love me the way one loves a wounded and dying animal on the side of the road. You pick it up and take it home. You endure the caterwauling and try to get it to eat; to live. You do it because it is the right thing to do. Maybe it is like that? All I know is that each tender and safe moment has nursed me back to life. I'm scarred and ugly. I am still bleeding in places and the abuse I've endured is apparent.  Still you smile past all of that and seem to see a version of  me that I don't know. Wounded and hurt animals bite or run and sometimes both. When I do either you shush me and gently approach me with your palms open. You assure me that you have no weapons. That you won't hurt me. That you aren't leaving.  You are liar though. Grace and love and devotion are the most powerful of weapons. I know because you've used them to fight the war that I sometimes wage with myself.

I become frantic so easily. I am terrified of the next blow, the next wound.

You tell me that my reactions to pain, because of what I experienced, make sense.

You tell me that I will be okay.

You tell me that we can figure it out... together.

So most mornings are like this. I awake before you and I watch you. Not many people get the chance to watch miracles sleep, you know.