I know your faults,
the holes in my gloves.
I feel you,
as if with my hands.
I see your face, as it laughs and weeps;
your joys are mine,
your sorrows and mistakes.
Sometimes, I wish for you
a friend, greater than I am.
Yet, I offer you myself,
my ears,
which yearn to understand.
The journey is ours;
this fragile life we have -
made of dreams;
the chatter of hopes, and plans,
made over coffee cups.

Copyright Suzy Davies. All Rights Reserved. 06/11/2016.