When I was a child
Love was the warm glow
of birthday candles
Illuminating comfort,
Hide n' go seek,
On balmy summer nights
Lit by fireflies,
Sweetly innocent
Rippling laughter
Soft as chenille,
Serene as my grandmother's
Cornflower blue eyes,
As I grew older
Love became this tangled growth
Difficult to discern
Strangely cumbersome and
Infinitely slippery,
Piercing,
An arrow in my chest
A burning in my throat,
A chess match of taking sides
Never belonging to any
A tug-of-war through
Other people's pain,
When I fell into it
Love became insanity,
Delirium in
Arid, scorching deserts
Blinding, white-out storms,
A deluge of bleeding
Fingers, hearts, and
Bruised skin
The yearning a knot lodged
In my stomach and throat ,
A fury of passion,
Desperation to drink poison
If it came from the beloved's lips,
When I spurned it
Love became haughty,
A useful tool,
Cynical laugh,
Amused eyes,
A smirk for a smile,
Razor words wielded
With wintry precision,
Numbness
To cover the scars
That continued to bleed,
Compunction,
Desire to hurt
As I was hurting,
A knife
To twist,
When my daughter was born
Love became feral,
Bared teeth to protect
Terror a living thing
A bird beating through my ribs
To escape
The certainty that this,
This small, wondrous miracle
Was more than I deserved,
Abysmal thoughts of loss,
Threatened to unhinge,
Snapping through
My chain,
Now I know love,
As the infinitesimal care
Of holding another's imperfections
Cupped in the palm of your hand
Fully cognizant of the fragility
As they themselves
Hold your own,
Seeing beyond the layers
Stretching definitions
Accepting the mystery of another
With grace and gratitude,
Letting expectation unwind,
Flowing, intertwining,
Braiding bodies, hearts, minds,
Singing a history of together
Where regrets cannot take root
There is no room for such
When everything has brought you here.
Love is pain
Unutterable suffering,
Indescribable beauty
Rapturous joy,
Two sides of the same whole,
I would not grieve
If I did not love,
And pain would not swell
If joy had not leapt in
The eyes of another
While looking into my own.
Love is a stripping away
And tenderly replacing process,
Love is remembering
Names, details,
the tilt of head,
the expression in eyes,
Pink tights, pigtails,
Stones in pockets,
A knitted scarf,
The blush of skin,
Gruffness of voice,
All the bits
that define,
The flow of days
Into years,
The hand that slipped into yours
and stayed there
Until slipping away,
The words in the dark,
Secret smiles, private jokes,
The building of something
Greater than the sum of its parts.
Love is Gestalt
A mystery masking
As a word.
