A stranger told me I was beautiful

A poem

A stranger told me I was beautiful today.

He meant it
I could tell by the genuine way his voice wrapped itself around the words
Like folded arms, protecting something fragile.

I smiled
But I didn’t smile for him.

His compliment made me think
Of the way your eyes used to well up when you
Felt happy enough to say the same thing to me.

Usually in the morning
When “mess” was the kindest way to describe my hair
And the leftover black from last night’s makeup
Was smeared against my cheek.

I thanked him for his words
For taking time out of his day to spread some joy.

But that’s not what I was truly thankful for.

The gratitude I gave him was for reminding me of you.
For bringing you back to the very top of my mind.

Even though I work every day to push your memory down,
To wipe the letters of your name from my lips
To slide my sleeve across the dreams we chalked out
While we were laying together in the dark.