six words

[chameleonsdream]

after a long dry spell - a poem.

before hello,
you said six words that made us sisters.
your eyes were an open door between us
and I stepped through

you love him too, don't you?

yang to my yin
you were my polar twin,
and he the silver thread that wove
between and through us both
transforming black and white
into something that gleamed and rustled
in the stillness between our words

you love him too. Don't you

remember how
time separated, spun minutes into months
turned hours into I've known you forever?
Because I do. You made me wish
I had no arms so I could stop wondering
how they would feel around you.

You love him, too. Did you

know you let me in
with those few words - opened doors
I never knew were there, invited me to share
more than an afternoon, more than his bed.
You gave me all your yesterdays together
and I returned my trust in our tomorrows.

You love him too, don't you,

you said, and dissolved
the awkwardness of "babe,
I know you'll love her", turned it into
wonder at how well he knew us both
transformed us from the triangle we were
into a never-ending twist of Moebius

where he and I and you
transform to we.