Do not love a love so readily given,
let it love you and abrade;
to sink lightly to its caress.
Love is not the road you’re on
rather, you are the road,
under its steps.
I am a bridge you cross,
over dark waters mystery
and jagged things, that cut your flesh.
Of cobbles and trusses
built of eyes and arms, mine,
you walk tenderly through my chest
We are the road we’re on,
journeying all directions;
We let go, we topple, we overfill.
Surrender to whims and wills.
The pavement varnish sets and shines
from the blood we lovers spill.