When you know yourself – I mean truly know
the bone and sinew holding you upright in the mirror.
From felted creases along folded chits of memory
to the dogeared pages of emotional reminders –
when your margins are filled with faded scribbling…
when you know what ails you
and you stop selling it as fodder for attention…
then, you learn to be loved.
Prodigal lovers sweep in like gales
Fraying the tips of each others sails.
These careless wave runners of contraband
Capsize and drown as a woman and man.
Love travels deep in the hulls of a human
yet we are unseaworthy vessels
for such precious cargo.
Tend to the cracks in the architecture
Of bridges that it starts to stir
Be the splash when the glaciers calve
and plummet into the surf.
Moan with self awareness, crumple into mass
Fold and melt into flowing glass.
Tie into braids of confluent streams
And cool into crystals of adamantine.
Love me like you’re the lost puzzle piece in my identity.
What we are unable to discover within ourselves,
we find in the love of another…