“I see You”

“Oel ngati kameie”

You lift your hand first—
fingers to brow,
then out toward me,
a small path drawn in the air
to show you’re willing
to meet where sight
isn’t just sight.

I answer by staying still,
letting the room settle
until I can take you in
without reaching for more
than what’s here.

It’s the kind of seeing
that doesn’t check the surface—
more like agreeing
to stand close enough
that whatever you carry
can be held
without being taken.

You say it softly,
as if the phrase
is a doorway left open:
I see you,
not with the eyes,
but with the part
that steadies itself
when another person
steps forward.

And I return it
in the only way I know—
by letting you matter
in the plain,
workmanlike way
two people can
when they choose
to meet each other
without turning away.

.