I watched him watch me for ten years,
more than a decade younger than me,
deep brown eyes like a child’s, like the night sky.
I watched him watch me without knowing his name,
occasionally catching glances of bone-depth
recognition from another lifetime—or many.
I watched him watch me as my children grew
and my marriage shrank, my life
shedding away in layers like a snake.
I watched him watch me as I stepped into the fire
and reclaimed my power, and, unlike almost everyone else,
felt him draw closer to the flame.
Then one day I gathered my courage
and watched him back,
and instead of seeing what was inside of him
he reflected back what was inside of me—
light, eternity, the birth of a star.
Like the eyes of a child.
Like the night sky.