The burden:
to be torn between heart, reason, and self—
three stones in the hand,
shifted back and forth
to balance a scale that will not steady.
My love—
I cannot lift you from the altar of my chest,
cannot unbind you
from the quiet faithfulness
even when love quivered.
I would sooner have my heart
break into a million bright fragments
than abandon a love
that never let go.
There were hours of questioning—
aches I did not author,
wounds I could not name.
I tried, at times,
to set you free.
But you would not go.
You burrowed into my smallest architecture,
nested in the membrane of every cell;
I waxed and waned
to the tide of your nearness.
Without you, nothing to fear—
without you, everything to want.
An anxious current lived in me,
as if some careless spell
had been cast for ruin—
yet still, I stand—we stand.
For with you or without you,
I do not quake.
My love for you is endless—
and this,
I will not forsake.
A love letter to the love within my heart.
