Call Me by Your Name

There’s something in a name.
Identity boiled down to it’s essence.
The name you chose for me seemed to spill out,
Never a question.
Certainty,
The death of curiosity.

There was joy in your voice,
Elation at the choice,
But when I looked into your eyes,
Peeking, painfully shy,
I saw a beautiful light reflected there, I didn’t dare,
I couldn’t stare,
Alarm bells in my head blaring
“beware!”
But far from those beautiful eyes,
I ached to look inside one more time.

Then things got confusing,
Communication a losing
battle I was terribly rattled.
If what I felt flowed both ways,
Why did you have nothing to say?

Today it hit me.
The light I saw was in me,
the mirror of your memory.
And my heart broke
a little bit.

So I want to say I’m sorry
for giving you my name.
I hope one day you find the path
to stoke your precious flame.
So that the next time you meet one who makes you feel at ease,
You wont call them by your name,
but by what your true self sees.