To K.A.

You always spoke so little of yourself,

You could bury your best friend, and tell nobody at work;

You are "so good at keeping things vague,"

In the most intriguing ways.

But, I'm not psychic because I can read you,

You said I understand you, better than anyone else in town;

You are such a star, a gravity well,

I find that hard to believe.

But, I do know you, don't I...

I feel your eyes when you glance at my Insta, before the hearts appear;

You love my photography: raw,

Natural and unrefined, unfiltered,

Where others just see trees, weeds.

You delve into understanding me,

And call me sophisticated when others just see the clown;

You expect me at my best yet love it when I'm bad.

Always a conscious choice.

I see the beauty in your mess,

And I appreciate the seemingly-random calculations you make

That place others before you, always pushing us for betterment,

Coach.

What a strange thing to understand someone else as oneself;

Stranger still to appreciate the flaws alongside the healthy positives,

But I still can't read your mind.