We used to pay for calls by the minute
And texts would cost 10p.
An unjust world attempted to monetise the worth of your words.
A good friend listened.
Nodded in appropriate places,
Hummed quiet encouragement,
Frowned soft confirmation of others’ wrongdoings.
A good friend shared good food.
To be seen.
Not just to be seen, but to be looked at.
And when looked at, to be looked at with understanding;
An acceptance that comprehends more than is known.
To be heard.
Not just to be heard, but to be listened to.
And when listened to, to listen to the words which are said, unsaid, and in-between;
To find meaning in intention not yet committed to action.
To be touched.
Not just to be touched, but to be felt.
And when felt, to be felt entirely;
To be embraced without judgement.
I love it when you sing to me– I love you feeling heard.
I love each single letter of each syllable, each word.
I love it when the rhythm’s wrong, I love you out of tune;
I love to hear you humming on your own in the next room.
I love it when your voice cracks and I love it when it breaks.
I love your perfect melodies, but I cherish your mistakes.