Your Hands And Eyes

your hands,
like worn maps
folding into mine,
a profile of scars
where our stories cross.

in the creases of your palms
i find the shape of my own,
a followed landscape
of all the ways i've been
broken and remade.

your eyes,
like two worn coins
polished by the friction
of a thousand midnights,
reflecting all the ways
i've been lost and found.

in their depths
i see the ghosts
of all the loves
that came before
and the ones that will
come after,

but with you
the spirits are quiet,
the maps unfold,
and i am home.

you're my home.